


Purple Clouds

by platinumtongue



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, grand master of demonic cultivation - Fandom, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - Fandom, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Adopted Children, Adventure & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Drunken (Almost) Confessions, First Kiss, Gay Grandparents, Gay Parents, Grief/Mourning, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, Next Generation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Poetry, Romance, Shounen-ai, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, Wuxia, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumtongue/pseuds/platinumtongue
Summary: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's grandson is a young cultivator named Lan Ziluan. He is very close with his loving grandfathers, but to become a senior cultivator, and avoid shaming his adoptive father, Sizhui, he must be tested by a clan leader. His examiner is the young but uncompromising son of Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yuyan. Gradually, Ziluan realizes life is much brighter around this clan leader who seems to despise him. However, he soon discovers these feelings were probably best kept to himself.
Relationships: Jiang Yuyan/Lan Ziluan, Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian
Comments: 34
Kudos: 80





	1. Autumn Wind

**Author's Note:**

> The two new main characters introduced are Lan Ziluan 蓝紫鸾 (given name Lan Ning 蓝甯), adopted son of Lan Sizhui, and Jiang Yuyan 江雨彦 (given name Jiang Cang 江苍), son of Jiang Cheng.
> 
> Sadly Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are only in this first chapter, sorry! :(

It had been nearly twenty years since biological cultivation sects had been abolished, and rankings and succession became, at least legally speaking, merit-based. Which wasn’t to say that prejudices didn’t remain. But Ziluan had never really decided where he fit within them. 

“Ziluan…” said his friend Binmu, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him. “You have your practice exam with Master Xichen today, don’t you? Where’s your head at?”

Ziluan blinked at him. He chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, Binmu, I was miles away…were you saying something?”

Binmu dropped his mouth open in exaggerated surprise but rolled his eyes soon after. “If you’re like that, it doesn’t matter who your father is, or how good your cultivation. You still have to pass exams, you know.”

“…mm,” Ziluan agreed reluctantly, attempting a smile. 

To be honest, the point of his father was not irrelevant to this discussion, but still a sore one. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father. He was one of the most powerful cultivators alive, and moreover a good and admirable man. But precisely because they weren’t related by blood, Lan Ziluan carried a heavy burden in his heart of what would happen if he embarrassed Lan Sizhui, the current leader of the Lan sect. 

“A-Ning?”

Ziluan flinched at hearing his given name. Meanwhile, Binmu was suddenly gone in an almost comically visible swirl of leaves on the ground in his wake. Ziluan let out a sigh before smiling and turning to face his father. 

He clasped his hands together before him and bowed. “Clan Leader.”

Lan Sizhui nodded, smiling in a way that belied his age. He had always had a young face, but at approaching sixty his youthful glow was causing some rumors that he was in fact an immortal fairy. “Do you feel ready?”

Ziluan blinked, tilting his head. “Ready?” he murmured curiously, before he gasped and realized he must be talking about the exam. “Oh! Yes…of course. I was…up half the night reviewing. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Sizhui didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nodded kindly. “No reason to be scared of your grand-uncle either. Even a poor evaluation from him is quite an invaluable education.”

Ziluan nodded and smiled because he felt he was expected to, but the thought that he might fail being in the forefront struck a deep chord in him. Is that what his father expected? 

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it,” he said politely.

Sizhui gave him an encouraging smile, then nodded and went on his way. As soon as his father was out of sight, Ziluan let all the air escape his lungs until his back slowly deflated. He scratched the back of his neck regretfully. 

Of course he knew the best thing to do now was review just a little more – and perhaps make some truth to the words that he had indeed been properly studying – but he was certain nothing would fit inside his head now. With a youthful smile, he instead grasped Suifeng and ran off toward the higher plains above the Cloud Recesses.

Not far by a flight of the sword, but still distant from almost any other human presence, a farm house sat nestled among the even higher hills above the plains. Woven through here and there by ribbons of water, beloved by moss, winding paper trees and evening sunlight, it was a blissful place. It had been Ziluan’s escape ever since he was small, and he was happy to keep it to himself. 

One of his two grandfathers was out in the front of the house, still gardening despite being now approaching eighty. Ziluan touched down a few yards from the garden gate, and the man once called the Yiling Patriarch lifted his white-haired head. He squinted and recognized Ziluan, at which point a wicked grin streaked across his aged face. 

“Lan Zhan! Come out here, Sizhui’s here!”

In moments, the still tall and imposing younger brother of Master Xichen, still known as one of the most powerful cultivators ever to have lived, Hanguang Jun appeared in the doorway. His light brown eyes passed calmly from his husband in the garden and then to Ziluan.

To Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji corrected gently, “Not him, his son. It’s Ziluan, Wei Ying.”

Ziluan clasped his hands and bowed with a joyful smile. “Hanguang Jun.”

“I know who it is!” Wei Wuxian shouted back. “Don’t just stand there, get on a tea pot on! A-Ning, you come on in. You sit and tell us all about your adventures, huh?”

Ziluan blushed at the memory of the many adventures he used to make up as a child to amuse his two grandfathers. But he happily agreed to sit down for some tea. As all three were seated in the tiny cabin, which was not extravagant but nonetheless filled with comforts and memories that the two had built here, Hanguang Jun seemed to be looking hard at Ziluan.

“A-Ning…looks worried,” he commented, in that terse and straightforward way of his. 

“Mm…you know, he does,” Wei Wuxian agreed, observing Ziluan closely. 

Ziluan quickly laughed to dispel any such thought. “I’m not! I really just came for a visit. Why don’t you both tell me about your day instead?”

Both grandfathers exchanged a long glance as they considered. “Nothing out of the ordinary really,” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Another day confirming Lan Wangji has no ticklish spots on his body. I always thought for sure someday I’d find one.”

Though Ziluan blushed, still surprised every time the two hinted at maintaining a sexual relationship at their age, Hanguang Jun dismissed the issue with a mere expression of mild disapproval toward Wei Wuxian. He then considered the earlier question. 

Eventually he supplied, “Wei Ying’s chest and throat have been bothering him. I have been experimenting making teas to soothe it.”

“Hm-hm,” Wei Wuxian chuckled, looking pleased with himself, leaning on his hand as he admired his husband. He looked like a young man when he did this. “They feel good to drink but taste terrible.”

Ziluan could have imagined it, but he thought the dignified Hanguang Jun bristled slightly. “The purpose is not to taste good.”

“At least put some honey in it!”

“Honey will harm your teeth.”

“Fine, I’ll gum my food from now on then. Actually, Lan Zhan, you know what might be even more fun with no teeth-“

“I’m worried about failing,” Ziluan interrupted suddenly. 

Though he was indeed a little embarrassed by Wei Wuxian’s joke just now, the truth was he had been struggling not to open up to his two mentors right away. They had already helped him so much. When he was young and realized he was probably a cut-sleeve. And when he was even younger and learned his father was most likely one of the infamous bastards of Jin Guangshan. They had always accepted him without even batting an eyelash, no matter how bad things felt. He hoped he could always rely on them.

But he hung his head as soon as the words were out. Saying them out loud made it suddenly feel like everything was crashing down on him. Most of his family already knew and had accepted him as a cut-sleeve. But no one touched on the subject of his biological father. He felt he knew why. Because acknowledging that would make his place in the Cloud Recesses tenuous. If he didn’t pass his exams, it would be even more so. And if he didn’t have his home, he really felt he might drift away like a cloud. It frightened him.

“Have you done your best to prepare?” Hanguang Jun asked with innocuous simplicity. 

Ziluan pretended to scratch under his bangs in order to hide his eyes behind his hand in shame. “I keep trying. But you know I’m bad at reading. I can’t focus for more than a few minutes.” He sighed heavily. “I told my father I was up half the night studying. True, I was up half the night, but I must have read the same passage a hundred times. I don’t remember anything.”

“Well you’re following the old fuddy-duddy Gusu study method. That’s your problem,” Wei Wuxian said, quite satisfied already that he had solved the problem. “Luckily the exam isn’t written. And you and I both know you can charm the bark off a tree, so what are you worried about, Ziluan?”

Ziluan scoffed with a self-deprecating smile. “Wei-yeye, you know I’m no match for you.”

“Of course. I’m the Yiling Patriarch, master of evil tricks,” Wei Wuxian replied, distinctly proud. “You can’t compare yourself to me. No one’s really on my level as far as talking.”

Ziluan chuckled, but his joy soon faded. “…Zewu Jun is probably going to ask me a historical question I don’t know the answer to. In fact, just one would be lucky,” Ziluan murmured, suddenly feeling like he wanted to cry. “He may become disillusioned. At worst, he may decide I’m not worth teaching. Which in this world means I will have no home.”

Both elders blinked at his negativity. “Well,” Wei Wuxian commented facetiously. “At least you’re not over-thinking.”

Hanguang Jun was shaking his head. “Neither xiong-zhang nor Sizhui would ever abandon you.”

Ziluan hung his head, hoping but not easily believing that this was true.

“Don’t even encourage his negative thinking. He has nothing to worry about. And even if they do, he’s welcome here isn’t he?” Wei Wuxian insisted.

A very soft, very kind and knowing smile just tinged the edges of Lan Wangji’s lips and caused his eyes to fall a little. He nodded. “Yes. As long as we are here. And I hope it will be long.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled a little at him, but there were decades of memories exchanged in the looks they gave one another. “Ahh. Lan Zhan, always planning for the future. True. I dread the thought of going through another winter. Every time it seems worse on my joints.” He stretched noisily and had another sip of tea before looking admiringly at Hanguang Jun again. “But I’ve got no worries. Got my lotus petal all picked out. Room enough for two.”

So much hung in the air between Hanguang Jun’s eyes and Wei Wuxian’s, Ziluan had an urge to paint it, but knew he could not capture it even then. Lan Wangji tilted his head slightly, returning Wei Wuxian’s look of admiration with his own. He nodded. “Mm.”

But Ziluan felt a deep chasm open up inside his chest as he realized what they were talking about. They were so peaceful, even joyful in their exchange, he couldn’t believe at first that they were talking about their own deaths. And for what sounded like not the first time. He felt his own heart fill with fear at losing them, how could they be so flippant?

Wei Wuxian noticed his worried look. He reached over and ruffled Ziluan’s bangs. “Don’t worry. We’ll still look out for you. Even if we have to become vengeful ghosts to do it. Believe me, I’ve done it before!”

“Wei Ying. That’s not comforting him.”

In the end, though it always warmed his heart to talk to them, Ziluan eventually left their cabin that day feeling even more lost and fearful than when he had arrived. It wasn’t just that they had brought up the subject, not even just the fact that they seemed so peaceful about it, but how certain they both seemed. Out of worry, and an irrational hope that his presence would somehow change fate, Ziluan began visiting them as often as he could after that.

But for today, he still had to face someone even older, and yet eternally youthful like his father. The great Zewu Jun, former clan leader and current cultivation master of the Lan sect.

He arrived a few minutes early for his practice exam. His stomach ached. His hands felt cold, but his face hot. He took a deep breath, which seemed only to stir up butterflies in his stomach, and knocked on his grand-uncle’s study door.

“…Master Xichen,” he murmured. “I, Ziluan, have arrived.”

“Come in.”

Ziluan bowed once to nothingness before opening the door. He quickly came in and closed it behind him. Not knowing what else to do, he stood before the great cultivator, bowed and offered a disarming smile. It was his nature to smile through almost any emotion, which he had been told caused many to believe he was overly casual about things.

But thankfully Zewu Jun returned it. The mirror image of Hanguang Jun, the elegant man sat in perfect posture at his desk in robes of turquoise and white, ready to take notes if necessary. But for now, he folded his hands into his lap. 

“Begin with your name and where you are from,” Zewu Jun prompted gently.

“Oh,” Ziluan muttered, and quickly bowed. “Gusu Lan Sect, Junior Cultivator, Lan Ning, courtesy name Ziluan.”

Lan Xichen nodded with a smile. “What is your specialty?”

“I have been told…tactics.”

“Hm. That is unusual in cultivation. Would you not be more comfortable in military service?”

Ziluan’s heart pounded at already feeling the implication of rejection in Zewu Jun’s words. He attempted a hesitant smile. “I have never tried so I cannot say, but I believe the study of tactics can also be useful in cultivation.”

“Please explain.”

Ziluan swallowed, but nodded. “In cultivation, strategy often does not proceed in a predictable manner. The best military tacticians do not prepare for the unique psychology of dealing with vengeful spirits. It involves equal parts cunning and empathy, and requires strong cultivation to enact.”

Ziluan could have imagined it, but he thought Zewu Jun’s expression slowly gained warmth over its naturally somewhat icy features. Master Xichen nodded. The questions proceeded mostly in this fashion, and true to Ziluan’s expectations, there were indeed several questions he either got wrong or simply didn’t know. Finally, after taking a couple of notes, Zewu Jun faced him with a warm smile.

“Finally, Lan Ziluan, as you have also indicated your skill in persuasion, I have a short task for you. You will have five minutes of preparation if necessary. You may choose any object for inspiration that you see in this room. Compose a poem about its features and describe its appeal, without revealing the name of the object. Are you ready?”

Ziluan glanced around the room. His eyes caught on the faintly moving blinds behind Zewu Jun, which made a pleasant clinking sound of wood that echoed faintly through the room now and then. He nodded. He breathed in deeply several times, listening to the soft sound of the blinds as his feelings took shape in his mind.

“Each year it arrives again, but is it the same?  
Or does my flesh grow older alone?  
Scent of leaves and thoroughwort flowers,  
Even chrysanthemum dew, it melts to memory  
Were I to look back, would my breath leave me?  
Each joy brings sad thoughts, as each autumn note  
Dipping and ducking through halls of my father  
Will its calling ever herald a permanent home?”

As he finished, the blinds clinked softly again. 

Zewu Jun was completely still, watching him. After a moment, he blinked once, and shifted his head in deep thought. Ziluan swallowed nervously. 

“A Chu song…” Lan Xichen murmured. Ziluan was vaguely aware that was a genre of poetry, but honestly he could not have identified it, and he flushed, worried he would have to explain his composition. Of course, he had none. Xichen took in a quick breath as if reorienting himself. “I see. The autumn wind, is that right?”

Ziluan nodded, halfheartedly trying to smile but filled with worry down to his toes. 

Zewu Jun closed his eyes for a moment, resting his fist against his chin in thought. He nodded again. “Did you purposefully take inspiration from Qiu Feng Ci, by Emperor Wu?”

Ziluan’s flush increased as he recognized the name Emperor Wu of course, but not the title of the poem. He swallowed with a new fear that he had somehow plagiarized a poem he didn’t remember reading. But he could do nothing but shake his head.

“I recommend it. It is worth a read,” Lan Xichen commented lightly, at which point Ziluan finally let out a breath he had been unconsciously holding. Xichen smiled warmly to Ziluan. “Well done. I will make some comments and call for you again when I am ready.”

Ziluan smiled with relief that at least it was over, bowed, and quietly left. He still had adrenaline running through him for the rest of the day. When he eventually was called back to receive Zewu Jun’s comments, he was incredibly relieved to hear that his lack of historical knowledge hadn’t been noticeably problematic. But he was told that was because he had indicated his strengths were in other places, and Zewu Jun assured him this was likely a successful strategy. Finally, he strangely invited Ziluan to join him in poetry study once a week. 

In the end, though Zewu Jun was by and large complementary, he concluded by saying that it was difficult for him to say whether Lan Ziluan would pass a proper examination. Much depended on the examiner in his case. He also told him that his examiner had been more or less decided. It wasn’t good news. 

“Jiang…Yuyan…” Ziluan repeated in despair. 

Lan Xichen chuckled, but did attempt a sympathetic smile. “The burden of examinations must pass from one clan leader to another, in sequence. I’m afraid it’s Clan Leader Jiang, or wait until next year.”

Ziluan hurriedly shook his head. “I can’t study like this for another year…I mean-!” he gasped, thinking that must sound awful.

But Zewu Jun just chuckled again. “Jiang Yuyan resembles his father in many ways. His outward appearance may be intimidating. But few people are as straightforward or honest. As long as you are respectful, honest, and trust yourself, I believe he will be a powerful ally for you one day.”

Ziluan smiled out of reflex, but the truth was, he had met Clan Leader Jiang before. It had not gone well. But as he had said, the idea of studying for another year, and having to be uncertain for another year about his future, was simply unacceptable. He fell asleep that night with his face in his books, but this time pleasantly enjoying a book of Chu songs. 

A few days passed in peace as he continued preparing for his exam, and visited his grandfathers whenever the burden became too great. On one occasion, he somehow got the feeling it was important he stay until late. 

The three talked until long after the sun had set, and they only reluctantly pushed him out the door as he was rubbing sleep from his eyes and couldn’t speak without yawning. He bid them a reluctant goodbye with a warm smile, waving as he walked off into the night, toward the soft glow of the white courtyards of the Cloud Recesses. 

The two men stood, one more steadily than the other, in the doorway of their cabin until long after Ziluan’s white robes were out of sight. Wei Wuxian seemed to want to keep watching, but when he had difficulty in stopping his cough, Lan Wangji leaned down to kiss his cheek and bid him come to bed. Wei Wuxian complained rather cutely, but he needed help to walk. 

He was shivering more and more these days, no matter how many clothes he wore. Lan Wangji slid into bed beside him and covered them both with blankets. He wrapped both arms around his husband and held him despite his coughing and shivering. Once his coughing died down, Wei Wuxian smiled while nuzzling against Lan Wangji’s shoulder and blankly watching his chest. 

“Lan Zhan…do you remember?”

Lan Wangji stroked a few locks of Wei Wuxian’s white hair from his gray but still handsome face, and felt himself smiling too, he couldn’t say why. “Remember what?” he asked.

Wei Wuxian giggled. “Everything. I told you once. Remember? That I have a terrible memory but I’d never forget a single thing you said or did after that point.”

Wanji nodded. “Mm.”

“What do you think? Did I do well?”

Wangji’s smile softened. He ran his thumb over Wei Wuxian’s cheek. “Yes,” he said. “At the expense of many other things.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders shook, but he tried to keep from laughing with a slight flinch of pain. Instead he again nuzzled Lan Wangji’s shoulder lovingly. “Unimportant things.”

“…is your grandson’s name not important?”

“Eh. He’s all right. But of all the people who were good to me…Zewu Jun, Wen Ning, Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng…Shijie…” he added the last two softly, though of his list only one of them was still living. He grinned up at his husband. “In the end, there was only ever you, you know. So if I had to let go of some important things, it’d always be worth it. For you.”

Though he was still smiling too, Wangji tried to hide the fact that one after another, soft tears were running across his nose and down into Wei Wuxian’s hair, sharing the pillow with him. Careful not to move him too much, he held him a little closer. 

“You must be tired,” Wangji said softly. 

Wei Wuxian took in a difficult breath, closing his eyes. “Just a little longer…”

“Mm. As long as you like.”

“…you’ll keep me company…?”

Wangji blinked past eyes blinded by tears, hoping to see more of Wei Wuxian’s face. “Always. I promise.”

“…I can’t keep my eyes open. Sing to me?”

Wangji was afraid his voice would break, but he nodded and first hummed, then softly sang Wangxian against Wei Wuxian’s hair. He saw Wei Wuxian’s eyes open just a little, and a blissful smile reach his face. Slowly, his eyes closed. His breath rattled once. And again. And then stopped.

Wangji’s voice faded away. He reached down to brush a single tear from Wei Wuxian’s eye. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He held him as close as he could. He too slowly closed his eyes.

“I’m coming, my love.”


	2. Carefree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziluan takes his exam with Jiang Yuyan, but a misunderstanding leads him to be badly injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Lan Ziluan’s sword is called “Suifeng” 随风, “wind-borne” or “carefree.” Jiang Yuyan’s sword is “Jiujiu” 赳赳, “valiant.”

Mornings in Yunmeng began quietly. Yuyan liked them for this reason. All too soon, it seemed, beginning with the migratory birds and soon followed by the noises of fishers and merchants, and subsequently the servants and myrmidons of Lotus Pier, this pleasant river valley would became a hub of activity. 

Today was especially irksome. That empty-headed fool, the adopted son of Lan Sizhui, was coming to be examined. Jiang Yuyan of course took his duties seriously, but the thought of having to test someone who seemed likely to fail made him inherently angry. He felt it reflected badly on him somehow. More importantly, he just couldn’t stand that boy.

At a few minutes before ten in the morning, when the exam was supposed to begin, his servants let him know that someone in Lan robes was at the gate. Yuyan sighed, rubbing his temple. 

“Show him in.”

As soon as the young Lan disciple was in sight of Jiang Yuyan, he smiled and bowed. Yuyan, sitting atop the high sect leader’s seat in the banquet hall, only scowled slightly in acknowledgement of his presence. One of the many irritating things about him was his tendency to smile at exactly the kind of occasions when Yuyan found it inappropriate. 

Though Yuyan paid no heed to rumors, it was true that this boy’s features were much more like his cousin Jin Rulan’s than they were the Lan clan leader’s. He was only just taller than the female servants who showed him in, of a narrow and boyish build. He carried himself much more proudly and freely than most Lan disciples as well. He had refined looks, somewhat ruined, Yuyan thought, by his constant happy-go-lucky expression. He smiled more broadly as he came within speaking distance and bowed again.

“Clan Leader Jiang,” he said.

Jiang Yuyan barely concealed a sigh and wetted his inkstone on the small desk he had placed beside his seat. “I know who I am,” he grumbled.

Lan Ziluan took in a sharp breath as he realized he was supposed to introduced himself. “Ah…Gusu Lan Sect, Junior Cultivator, Lan Ning. Courtesy name, Ziluan. I have arrived for examination.”

Jiang Yuyan made a brief note. “Well then. What is your sect motto?”

“ ‘Be righteous,’ ” Lan Ziluan answered.

“Mh,” Jiang Yuyan commented, unable to stop from bitterly remembering the last time he had met this irritating young man, and how hollow that phrase rang out against that memory. “And how many rules must you follow now?”

The Lan disciple actually disguised a chuckle at this. “Despite the rumors, ever since the last cultivation master retired, Zewu Jun has not added any more.”

“Is that what I asked?”

“…no. My apologies.”

“Answer the question.”

“Four thousand and seventy-one.”

Jiang Yuyan made a note, though nothing that had happened so far was unexpected in the slightest. “And how many have you broken, personally?”

The young cultivator’s lips parted and he seemed somewhat taken aback. From what Yuyan knew of the Lan sect, even implying that they broke their own rules was a great dishonor to them. He asked the question for precisely this reason: to see how this carefree young man reacted to having his sensibilities threatened.

Lan Ziluan swallowed and seemed to be trying to compose himself. Yuyan felt a flicker of guilt as he realized there was a small amount of pain in his features. 

“Well?” Yuyan pressed, when no answer was forthcoming.

“F-…forgive me, Clan Leader Jiang. May I ask the purpose of this question?” he asked, with at least an outward appearance of calm. 

“You may not. You are not here to examine me,” Yuyan answered flatly. “You have the right refuse to answer. I will mark it down, and move on. Otherwise, you are wasting time.” He intentionally avoided reassuring him that the answer to this particular question would not affect the final result. It was only intended as a small test of his character.

It took Lan Ziluan several long moments to come to a decision, in spite of his obvious concern for wasting time. At length, he slowly raised his hands before him in a bow. “Clan Leader Jiang. With respect…” he said, slowly but clearly. “…I request that you retract the question.”

Jiang Yuyan raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Forgive me for speaking above my station,” Ziluan said. “I mean no disrespect. Nor am I questioning your methods. To answer this question would reflect badly on my sect and my teachers.”

“…as I said, you may choose not to answer. That is your prerogative,” Yuyan reminded him irritably.

To his disbelief, even while he still bowed, Ziluan managed to smile up at him. “ ‘Do not flatter,’ “ he said softly, almost affectionately.

“…eh…?”

“ ‘Do not fear the strong. Be amicable and unedited. Have courtesy and integrity. Have affection and gratefulness. Be just. Be ethical. Be grateful. Be loyal. Do not take your own words lightly.’ There are all precepts that are ingrained in the hearts of Lan disciples. To simply refuse to answer, without stating the reason for my objection, would be breaking every precept I just mentioned.” 

In spite of the grim situation he must be aware he was in, ZIluan smiled warmly up at Yuyan. “I will abide by your decision if you cannot retract the question. But out of consideration for my masters, I would be grateful if you did.”

Yuyan had to admit, his logic was powerful. He scoffed. “Persuasion, huh?” he muttered, mostly to himself. 

“Yes, Clan Leader.”

Yuyan tapped his brush against the inkstone, both to dab away extra ink and to sort through his thoughts. “Your objection is noted,” he muttered, indeed marking down his thoughts about the previous exchange. “What are your other strengths?”

Ziluan’s face brightened a little as he seemed genuinely pleased to have “persuasion” considered as one of his strengths. “Tactics are my specialty. Other than that, I have been told my sword skills are quite high for someone of my age.”

Yuyan’s eyebrow twitched at that. To judge from Zewu Jun’s appraisal, which he had requested specifically for this purpose, this boy might be an airhead but – at the sword at least – he was a rare talent. Yuyan wondered whether “do not be overly humble” was on that impossibly long list of rules, deeply suspecting it was not. Yuyan’s eyes passed to the blade that the young cultivator held at his side.

“What is your sword called?”

Ziluan smiled and held up the inscription. “ ‘Suifeng.’ “

“Of course it is,” Jiang Yuyan muttered to himself. Ziluan’s smile became an embarrassed one. “And beyond your four thousand and seventy-one Lan precepts, and your righteous motto, what other admonition do you have for yourself as a cultivator?”

Ziluan took his time in answering this question. Unbeknownst to him, this question was unfortunately an important one, and even pausing was already a bad sign. It showed that Lan Ziluan had not considered his own philosophy of cultivation before. That was one of the biggest signs Yuyan knew of that a junior cultivator was not ready to be independent. 

At length, the answer he gave was even worse than Yuyan expected. “Ah…yes,” Ziluan murmured, nodding to himself. “As I thought, it seems I do not have any.”

Yuyan was reaching the limit of his ability to be amused by this fool. “None?” he pressed. “Then you have no reason for wanting to be a cultivator at all?”

“Those, I have many. But none with any deep meaning. I want to be filial. I want to be of service. I want to be a force for good in small ways and large, every day. Perhaps I have not yet seen enough of the world to know what I would like not to be, but I have no deep desires for anything.”

Yuyan’s thoughts caught on his first phrase, which must have been the first one on Ziluan’s mind. Though the words came easily and casually, and became buried in other reasons, Yuyan had the impression that only the first one really mattered. Of all things, he would not have expected someone so flippant to be so devoted to his father. Unfortunately, while that might fit well into the Lan principles, such an attachment was shaky ground on which to base one’s cultivation philosophy.

He let out a slow, heavy breath as he marked down this answer. As he did, he decided there was only one chance left for this young fool. It would require a bit of unpleasantness for both of them. 

“Persuasion. Tactics. And the sword,” Jiang Yuyan murmured to himself. “It seems your skills are far better suited to killing humans than evil spirits.”

He appreciated the shock and horror that ran over Lan Ziluan’s face. The young cultivator even physically retreated a step, possibly sensing what Yuyan was about to do. He looked toward the ground, searching it as if for help. 

“Clan Leader…I know this may sound cowardly, but I never kill if I can avoid it. Even evil spirits. I do not even eat eggs or milk as I consider them theft of life. I could kill an evil spirit if there were no other option, but I do not believe I could ever kill another human being.”

“Kill me before I kill you.”

Ziluan took in a sharp breath, retreating further as Jiang Yuyan stood, the Zidian around his right hand beginning to crackle. “…what…?” Ziluan whispered.

“I’m a fierce corpse,” Yuyan grunted in halfhearted explanation, though he was impatient to permanently wipe the smile off this impudent boy’s face. “I’m only driven to keep moving my body by lingering resentment. My cultivation is higher than yours, so your only chance to survive is to kill me first.”

He was satisfied by the look of dread on Lan Ziluan’s face as he descended the stairs and cracked his Zidian to increase the tension between them. 

“Unless you forfeit.”

Ziluan’s jaw tightened. A soft glow of an intangible emotion met his eyes, and though Yuyan could not identify it, somehow it drove a pulse of excitement through his blood. The young cultivator very reluctantly grasped his Suifeng’s hilt in one hand, its sheath in the other, and drew. Despite his flippant nature until now, Yuyan could feel the air shift, and suddenly felt as if he were facing the gaze of a tiger on the hunt. 

Yuyan did not wait for the boy to attack first. He cracked his Zidian mercilessly, gladly letting out the lingering resentment he held for this young cultivator who had so humiliated him. 

…

The first time he remembered meeting Lan Ziluan had been at a cultivation conference three years ago when, after almost all the cultivators had a few drinks in them, the precocious young heir to the Jin clan began making overtures his way. Jin Lianyi was now a senior cultivator, twenty years old, and had already had one prominent affair with another powerful cultivator, if rumors were to be believed.

“Clan Leader Jiang,” Jin Lianyi had murmured softly, sitting beside him and clearly using the excuse of drink to brush her knee against his. Yuyan quickly scanned the room for signs of his cousin Jin Ling, her father, who to no surprise already seemed to have already turned in for the night. “I’m very sorry to hear about Madam Hua. You must be upset.”

Yuyan’s jaw tightened. It was already common knowledge that his wife had left him, and to add insult to injury, seemingly everyone in the cultivation world but him somehow apparently knew the reason. He took a drink and refused to respond. 

“I saw your son the other day. He’s already very handsome and charming, you should be very proud.”

Yuyan felt sick in the pit of his stomach, and had to use every ounce of self-control to keep his Zidian from reacting to his anger. True, his young son – though not even a teenager yet at the time – had as much or more talent than he, and seemed to have everything he lacked, including kindness. A true reflection of having been raised by his mother. 

“But for a clan leader such as yourself to be single…truly, it must be called a crime,” she went on, sneaking a little closer to him and pouring him another cup of wine without being asked. “Clan Leader…you’re nearly thirty but still so handsome. And so tall…I imagine it must be difficult to kiss,” she added with a girlish giggle. 

On top of every other humiliation, Jiang Yuyan felt mortified by his own attraction to Jin Lianyi. Albeit the whole Jin family had a reputation for beauty and sophistication, few were as bold as this. In general, he didn’t hate that. But his pride would never forgive someone who tried to approach him on the subject of his failed marriage. Not to mention, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was the daughter of his cousin, and although there was no law against that kind of relation, there were still blood ties between them.

“It is probably too soon to be seeking another wife, but…have you had any thoughts?”

Against his will, his Zidian crackled as he held it under the small table. He felt blood rushing into his ears, and he had already decided he didn’t mind making a scene if it would teach this girl a lesson about who to set her eye on. 

“Or, if it’s too hard to say now, then please join me in my rooms,” her hand came to rest on his knee, and Jiang Yuyan almost physically felt a vein pulsing on his forehead. “And we’ll discuss it long into the night-“

“Cang-Cang!” 

The will to fight suddenly froze solid inside Jiang Yuyan’s body, as an unfamiliar voice called out his childhood nickname. Was he losing his mind?

“Thanks for waiting,” said a young cultivator of the Lan sect, coming to sit if possible even closer to him than Jin Lianyi was. Yuyan eventually recognized him as the adopted son of Clan Leader Lan. What could he possibly be trying to do? “I’m sorry, the osmanthus cakes were already gone. But I got you some water chestnut cake instead. So don’t pout, hm?”

To Yuyan’s disbelief, after setting a few water chestnut cakes onto the plate before him, the young cultivator brushed the crumbs off his fingers before casually reaching up and brushing a lock of hair behind Yuyan’s ear. Even his wife had never been so open in public displays of affection. Yuyan sat frozen from head to toe in confusion, rage and disbelief.

Jin Lianyi also recoiled slightly as she saw this. “You’re…Lan Ziluan…” she muttered softly. “What…?”

As if only just noticing her presence, Lan Ziluan tilted his head curiously. He smiled warmly to her and bowed his head in greeting. “Lady Jin,” he said. But then immediately began toward Yuyan as if restarting a previous conversation, “And anyway, I told Binmu that Zewu Jun couldn’t possibly be bothered with such a trifling matter. Zewu Jun is very kind of course, but what funny faces he makes when he’s a little embarrassed…”

“…eh…” Jin Lianyi murmured, shifting slightly away.

“…but Cang-Cang’s advice was perfectly correct. As usual,” he added with a small, intimate laugh, looking longingly up at Jiang Yuyan. 

Yuyan still sat stock-still, unable to comprehend anything that was happening around him at this moment. He was so shocked he didn’t even have the wherewithal to be angry. 

“Oh…I don’t feel good…” Jin Lianyi muttered, either because she really had had too much to drink or because she couldn’t take the sight before her, and soon swept off toward her rooms.

Under his breath, Lan Ziluan murmured, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Yuyan looked down at him in utter shock, though at least he hoped an explanation for his outrageous behavior was forthcoming.

With an apologetic smile, the young cultivator said softly, “I’m not sure you know this, but I already have a small reputation. If you ignore me, those who know will take it as shameless flirting on my part, and hopefully it won’t reflect badly on you. As soon as Lady Jin is out of sight, I suggest you get up as if you’re fed up with my attempts. I’ll make a show of disappointment, but I won’t follow.”

Jiang Yuyan clenched his jaw and balled both fists over his knees. “A fine pretense. You really are shameless.”

Lan Ziluan nodded somewhat sadly, taking up a water chestnut cake as he said softly, “I thought it would be slightly better visually if I were the one to receive your rage, rather than Lady Jin.” He took a bite of cake as if there were nothing unusual in what he’d just said.

Yuyan’s anger somewhat dissipated in a new wave of shock, as he realized that this odd young man had made a fool of himself – and may even have earned a reputation as a cut-sleeve, whether or not he had one already – simply to prevent Yuyan from striking Jin Lianyi in public. Shame, frustration and anger balled into Yuyan’s gut and he did not know where to turn. 

At any rate, he couldn’t sit next to this symbol of his own shame any longer. The moment Jin Lianyi’s robes disappeared down the banquet hall steps, he swept to his feet and stormed off to his own room. 

True to Lan Ziluan’s words, though there were some murmurs after that about Lan Sizhui’s son being a cut-sleeve, none of them seemed to blame Jiang Yuyan for the interaction. Rather than relief, however, Yuyan’s pride took a heavy hit both that he had been saved by such a young and flippant fool, and that it had been done in such a humiliating manner. He hoped never to meet him again.

…

As Ziluan skillfully dodged a strike of the Zidian, Yuyan carelessly destroyed one of his own courtyard’s tiles. He used the dust as a screen to dive in toward a range too close for a sword to be effective. But the same instant, Ziluan grasped Suifeng’s hilt and soared more than his own height again into the air. He landed softly behind Yuyan’s back but was immediately forced to dodge the Zidian again.

“I’m getting bored,” Yuyan growled. “And if you’d been called by the Jiang house to get rid of me, you’d already have some damages to pay for. You know my cultivation is higher, so talismans and binding magic are useless. What are you going to do?”

But despite his earlier ease at speaking, and the skill with which he seemed to be able to evade even serious attempts to hit him with the Zidian, Ziluan’s face showed deep frustration and anxiety. Perhaps it was true what he said about deploring the idea of killing, but Jiang Yuyan suspected that was due largely to inexperience and mortal fear. He decided to end this test by teaching the young cultivator a lesson.

He used his golden core to draw Jiujiu and merely swipe it behind Ziluan’s back, lifting his hair a little to distract him, while he snapped the Zidian around Ziluan’s wrist. He raised his fist in order to break the young cultivator’s confidence completely by landing a simple punch against his cheek. But to his shock, though his head was half turned around in order to keep Yuyan’s sword in his peripheral vision, Ziluan’s eyes were locked on Yuyan’s.

But then suddenly they flicked up into the air over Yuyan’s head, and widened. “Clan Leader!”

While Yuyan was still struggling to react, the young cultivator grasped him by the back of the neck, almost as if he were about to kiss him. Yuyan took in a breath of shock and disbelief, his stomach fluttering in strange excitement. Ziluan pulled him down a few inches out of the way of something that swept past the back of Yuyan’s head, but which he was too distracted to be concerned over. 

Now fully embraced by the smaller man, his rage reached its peak. “You…cut-sleeve bastard!” he roared, shoving him back. 

“Ungh…!”

There was a wet noise of metal opening flesh. Yuyan took in a sharp breath. He could feel through Jiujiu that it was his sword that had struck. Or rather, when he had pushed him backward, Ziluan had been forced back into Jiujiu’s waiting blade. 

The strike was not deep enough to pierce through him completely. But as Ziluan looked down in shock, he coughed blood onto his white robes. 

Yuyan didn’t think as he pulled him off the blade and tapped pressure points in his back to stop the blood flow. Only then did he look up and realize what Ziluan had been trying to protect him from moments ago. A dire owl, its glowing red eyes only just visible beyond the swirling, dark yin energy surrounding it, was hovering in the air just outside the range of the Zidian. 

“Dire owl…?” Yuyan whispered. 

“Careful,” Ziluan cautioned weakly as the bird prepared for another sweep. 

Even though its surprise attack had been foiled, presumably seeing it would be difficult for Yuyan to defend while holding Ziluan up with one arm, the bird made another pass at his head. Yuyan scowled to be so underestimated by a lesser beast. He casually flicked his wrist to direct Jiujiu into the fray. 

The bird screeched as Jiujiu clashed against its claws, and with that it turned tail and made its escape. It’s black smoke trail headed toward the high hills of Gusu. 

Yuyan sighed in frustration, wondering who on earth would have sent such a foul creature to attack him in his own home. Finally, with a deep stab of guilt, he looked down at the cultivator whose consciousness was fading as he held his swaying body up. 

“Kid,” he muttered. “Can you walk?”

“Eh…likely…no…” Ziluan managed, but then he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut, and Yuyan was forced to catch him. 

On taking his full weight, he realized this boy might be even lighter than his wife. With this knowledge, Yuyan’s guilt could only increase. His own words struck him deeply as he realized he had just said something horrible to someone who, for the second time in their acquaintance, was trying to help him. Might possibly have saved just his life, not to mention his reputation on the previous occasion. 

He clenched his jaw in frustration. Just who was this noble idiot?


	3. Moonlit Plains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Ziluan is heartbroken to discover the fate of his grandfathers. Though Jiang Yuyan attempts to comfort him, he expresses doubt about Lan Ziluan's future. Zewu Jun proposes an unexpected solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Lan Sizhui’s title is Cangfeng Jun 苍风君, “Lord of Blue-Grey Wind.”

Evening light spilled in, touching Ziluan’s eyelids as if gently encouraging him to wake. He took a breath in. The air here was warm and almost sweet with the scent of reeds. It made him smile before he was even fully awake. 

A figure sat beside him, softly lit by the warm, orange light. His dark hair and forbidding brows were softer than Ziluan had seen them before. He could now observe at his leisure the delicate braids that led up to his bun, which was adorned with a rather militaristic lotus diadem. He was tall to begin with, but wide shoulders and a narrow waist, especially at this angle, made him seem even larger and almost wolf-like. He had an angular face that veered just to the rough side of handsome, but from the first time he’d met him, Ziluan had been rather fascinated by Jiang Yuyan. Black eyes flicked his way as soon as he noticed Ziluan’s gaze.

Jiang Yuyan’s expression soured upon looking at Ziluan’s face. “Awake?”

“Not sure…” Ziluan answered honestly.

Yuyan rolled his eyes dramatically, heaving himself up. “You’re not that badly hurt. Come on. Back to Gusu.”

“Oh…not a dream then.” Ziluan muttered to himself. 

He sat up as instructed and remembered with a stab of pain that at least two unfortunate things had happened to him earlier in the day. He could feel bandages under his formerly white robes, which now were rather pitifully stained with his blood.

He had in fact been quite literally stabbed. It was a first for him. He didn’t enjoy it. But somehow the reason for it was even less pleasant. He felt a shiver run through him at the hatred in Jiang Yuyan’s expression as he pushed him away. 

“You…cut-sleeve bastard!”

Ziluan’s chest hurt more than his back, and he pressed his fist against it to quiet the discomfort. He gathered from his reaction the first time they met that Jiang Yuyan was not the most understanding toward cut-sleeves. Ziluan told himself that fact didn’t concern him. After all, he wasn’t in love with Jiang Yuyan, and even if he were, he would never be so bold as to act on those feelings. But it still didn’t feel good to be thought of so poorly by someone he admired.

He obediently followed Jiang Yuyan into the courtyard of Lotus Pier, appreciating the distinctive Yunmeng architecture and profusion of flowering plants. He kept following Clan Leader Jiang all the way out to the docks. He was surprised when, after directing him into a small boat, Jiang Yuyan stepped aboard as well, untying the boat and pushing it from the dock with his foot. 

Ziluan observed the situation interestedly as they drifted away from Lotus Pier, alone together on the boat. He did wonder what might be going on, as Clan Leader Jiang had mentioned going back to Gusu but Ziluan had come here on foot. He didn’t know there was a water route. After a possibly overly lengthy gap of time without any change in the situation, he blinked up at Jiang Yuyan. 

“…are you coming too, Clan Leader Jiang?”

Jiang Yuyan’s eyes fluttered as he rolled them in equal exasperation and disbelief. He actually looked down at Ziluan with pity, though unintentionally making Ziluan’s heart beat a little faster by doing so. “Has anyone ever told you, you have your head in the clouds?”

Ziluan nodded. “Embarrassingly frequently.”

Shaking himself slightly, as if foolishness were catching, Yuyan reluctantly explained, “The owl fled in the direction of Gusu. I doubt your father had anything to do with it, but to investigate it I should start in the Cloud Recesses.” 

“I see.”

The silence grew heavy between them, the only sounds soon just the lapping of water and now and then a soft gust of wind in the trees. It felt distinctly awkward, but Ziluan couldn’t think of anything to say. The only details of Jiang Yuyan’s life he knew were rumor, and most were likely sore subjects. He really doubted that they had anything in common.

Still the silence persisted, and somehow seemed to grow even more unbearable. Finally Ziluan was about to take a chance, opening his mouth to speak when Jiang Yuyan did so first.

“Does your shoulder hurt much?”

Ziluan was surprised by the question, and it actually took him a moment to remember that it hurt because he had been stabbed. “Oh,” he said, laughing in self-deprecation. “That’s right, I had almost forgotten. That combination was extremely effective, Clan Leader. Even if an enemy draws close after being captured by the Zidian, which I would think unlikely in most circumstances, with a brush of the hand they fall prey to Jiujiu. Quite impressive.”

Yuyan looked away with a furrow between his brows and didn’t respond. 

“Was that…a practiced move, or were you improvising?”

Yuyan closed his eyes with an outward breath of annoyance, seeming to have lost interest in the topic. With that the silence returned between them. 

“…your…Zidian is very powerful. It must take a lot of concentration to use two spiritual tools-“

“Enough,” Yuyan snapped, finally fixing a glare on him from the corner of his eye. “I asked one question, which you didn’t answer. We are not friends, Lan Ziluan. If I had my choice, I would have nothing more to do with you at all. Is that clear?”

Ziluan tried very hard, and he thought he maintained his smile. It took him a moment to work up the courage to nod, but he did so. Fortunately at that moment Yuyan stopped looking at him because his eyes were starting to sting and his smile quickly faded. He turned his gaze down to the water and tried to occupy his mind with something else.

A couple of hours later, they reached the end of the part of the journey they could take by water, and proceeded on foot. Though after the walk up the mountain Ziluan was starting to feel a little feverish, they arrived before nightfall in the Cloud Recesses. Jiang Yuyan asked for Cangfeng Jun as soon as they arrived. But when Ziluan mentioned the dire owl as the cause of his injury to an outer disciple, she told them the same creature had been spotted heading in the direction of the Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian’s cabin.

Ziluan’s heart flew into his throat. He couldn’t say why, but even last night before he had left them, he had a terrible feeling of dread about his grandfathers. He had never once kept his father waiting in his life. He was aware Jiang Yuyan hadn’t given him permission to leave either. It was growing dark and he was injured. Nevertheless, he grasped Suifeng and flew off toward the high plains without a word.

“Ah…hey! You little…you can’t go off on your own like that! Damn boy,” he heard Jiang Yuyan grumble. “Tell Cangfeng Jun I’ll get him and be right back!”

Ziluan thought he heard Yuyan following him, but he didn’t slow down even a little until he reached their cabin. He stumbled to the ground as he landed but quickly picked himself up and ran past the gate toward the door. There was no sign of activity anywhere nearby. No smoke, fire or light anywhere inside, and no sound. He knocked on the door, lightly but numerous times. 

“Wei-yeye…Hanguang Jun…” he repeated over and over, his heart pounding so loud he could barely hear himself. “Yeye…are you sleeping? I’m sorry, but please wake up…Wei-yeye…Hanguang Jun…”

He heard Jiang Yuyan’s feet hit the ground outside and walk slowly up behind him. He waited for several heavy moments of silence to make sure there was no sign of movement inside, despite his insistent knocking and calling. He swallowed the panic that kept rising up in his throat. 

“Forgive me,” he said, and kicked in the door. 

“Hey!” Yuyan scolded, but he quickly grew silent at the aura that met both of them upon opening the door. 

The cabin was not large. The bed took up most of the space inside. It was impossible not to see them curled up together on top of it. And even at a distance, with one glance, it was clear that their bodies no longer housed their spirits. 

“Yeye…” Ziluan murmured. He wasn’t thinking clearly as he rushed inside and knelt by their bed. He ignored the coldness of their bodies and hollowness of their skin. He checked each of their qi, and some part of his mind told him even the cold nothingness he felt there was only severe illness or injury. 

But then, as he let go of Wei Wuxian’s frail hand and it dropped limply over Lan Wangji’s side, he looked properly at their faces. Though their expressions were subtle and serene, each held just a hint of undeniable happiness. Even though he had only known them while they had been spending their autumn years in blissful enjoyment of each other’s company, he had never seen them happier or more peaceful. 

With this realization, suddenly rather than two people he loved, he shared this room with two lifeless objects in their shape. The horror of that idea was too great. 

He sank to the floor, arms hanging limply by his sides. Tears welled up until he couldn’t see an inch in front of his face. He felt frozen, but sadness kept building up inside him despite his inability to move. He whimpered. 

“Father!” he cried with all his heart. 

Fortunately, having been informed by the disciple they met on arrival where they had gone, Lan Sizhui had already been on his way, flanked by several disciples in case of trouble. He was within hearing of the horrific cry that rose from his grieving son and echoed across the plains.

Ziluan cried in a way he never had before, facing up to the heavens and shaking in pain, barely able to take breath between his wailing. After what felt like an agonizingly long time, he felt warm and familiar hands grasp his shoulders.

“Ziluan…”

He tried to suck in enough breath to speak, but his throat kept stopping when he tried. He couldn’t say the words. He whimpered and merely cried softly, “Father…!”

Sizhui looked on his son with heart-rending pity. He turned toward the bed behind him, and his own breath caught. Ziluan suddenly felt incredibly selfish for his behavior. Of course these two men had been important to him, his safe haven from the time he was small, and his dear family. But for Lan Sizhui, they had been his fathers. 

Sizhui got to his feet. To Ziluan’s shock, as he was barely brave enough to touch them when he thought there was a chance they were still alive, the Lan clan leader rested his weight on the bed beside them. Though his eyes were tearing as he did, he smiled softly as he observed them in their long sleep. 

“Hanguang Jun. Wei-xianbei. I wish you happiness wherever your souls find each other next,” he murmured in a voice that broke, and Ziluan saw a single, silvery tear grace his father’s face.

Out of consideration for Lan Sizhui, Ziluan tried to stop himself from crying. But even the attempt only made more bitter pain echo through his body. He at least restrained his voice, but his tears were pouring hotly in a mess down his face. And when he again glimpsed the way their bodies were curled together, as if merely sleeping, his face twisted and he curled in on himself, holding his own body as if to stop from feeling this way. 

He heard Sizhui send for Zewu Jun, as well as a doctor to make certain they were gone, and to care for their bodies. Ziluan had a distant thought that he could not imagine being so brave himself as to think of such necessary things. He could still barely move. He didn’t want to think about life without them. How had this happened?

“Ziluan…?” he heard his father’s voice directed toward him again. 

But this time a different set of arms surrounded him and helped him to his feet. “I’ll look after him, Cangfeng Jun. It’s my fault he’s like this.”

A moment of hesitation. “…thank you, Clan Leader Jiang.”

With that, as Sizhui went outside to wait for Zewu Jun to arrive, the large arms around him herded Ziluan outside into the chilly night air. 

“Ziluan,” said the surprisingly soft voice. “Are you with me? We’re going back to the Cloud Recesses.”

ZIluan was shaking his head, trying to turn back. “No…they’re all alone…” he whimpered, not sure what he was saying.

“They’re not. Cangfeng Jun is here, and Zewu Jun is on his way.”

“I don’t want to…!”

Jiang Yuyan sighed heavily. “No one ever does. But you’re too old to talk like that. I won’t leave you alone, so stand up tall. Don’t let Zewu Jun see you looking defeated.”

Ziluan didn’t really understand what most of that meant, but he would listen to almost any advice right now. Sure enough, Zewu Jun soon sailed by overhead, and he felt the master’s curious gaze on him. He wondered if he look defeated.

Somehow or other, Jiang Yuyan brought Ziluan back to his own room and sat him down on the bed. The clan leader seemed unsure what to do next, scratching the back of his neck. At length he took a seat on the floor some distance away and gazed toward the door thoughtfully. 

“…to be honest,” he muttered. “I always admired Wei Wuxian. Even though my father hated him.”

Ziluan didn’t really want to hear this right now. He knew how the world scorned and dismissed the Yiling Patriarch, despite all the good he had done. None of them understood what a loving and playful person he was. How full of joy and care, how free and open. It didn’t make sense that he was gone but the world kept turning. But Ziluan did understand how once he had departed, Hanguang Jun couldn’t stay.

“Part of me wanted to be like him,” Yuyan went on softly.

“Please,” Ziluan whimpered, tucking his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them. “I’m already so ashamed. Please just leave me.”

Jiang Yuyan seemed torn, his breath catching. But at length he turned away. “I can’t do that. After my father died, someone was with me even when I wanted to be alone. Thinking back, it probably saved my life.”

Ziluan was again stricken with guilt at his own behavior. His tears renewed as he tried to look up at Clan Leader Jiang, sitting humbly on the floor beside a lowly junior cultivator’s bed. He sobbed.

“They weren’t my fathers,” Ziluan whispered. “They weren’t even my real family. I’m breaking another Lan precept by crying so helplessly over them. It’s so shameful!” 

Yuyan sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know about your precepts…although that sounds like a stupid one. But everyone knows they were your grandfathers. In times like these, it’s rare to even know your grandparents, much less like them. Cherishing them a little bit…I don’t think that’s a crime.”

Ziluan’s face twisted in agony and he sobbed. Unable to help himself, he slipped out of bed and crumpled to the floor beside Yuyan, gripping his robes and pressing his head against his shoulder. He was incredibly relieved when Yuyan didn’t push him away, but he was sure this bothered him. 

Yuyan nodded to himself. “That’s fine. Cry it out.”

Ziluan cried there, shaking against Yuyan’s back, until he couldn’t lift his head anymore. Too much had happened today and his body gave out on him. He had a vague impression of large arms surrounding him, carrying him, and wondered if it were Hanguang Jun. But the grasp was so rough it must be Wei Wuxian. He was placed in bed and a blanket laid over him.

And a rough voice attempting softness, “You’re a lot luckier than you think, kid. You can be sure they’re still protecting you.”

Ziluan felt another tear fall even as he was sure he was dreaming.

…

Yuyan let out a heavy sigh as he looked on the pitiful sight of the young disciple who had cried himself to sleep. Not wanting to be reminded anymore of how that must feel, he quietly went outside and found Zewu Jun and Cangfeng Jun back atop the high plains. Although he was sure he had heard somewhere that the Lan forbid work after 9 pm, they understandably couldn’t leave bodies to decompose for another night. 

Still, he was shocked by his brief glance of the two bodies of the honored gentlemen. They should have been left for at least a day and a night in this state already, but there was no foul smell or signs of distress on their bodies. Perhaps they really had been saints.

“Zewu Jun,” he said softly as he approached. “My condolences.”

His voice didn’t seem to carry as it usually would, the entire air around this place seeming heavy. The Lan elder seemed sunk into quite a deep place all on his own, but he raised his gaze and nodded courteously. Eventually he managed a soft smile. 

“I cannot say I am not in anguish at this moment,” Lan Xichen said, in spite of his expression. “I hoped my younger brother would outlive me…as do all elder brothers. I thought he should have.”

Yuyan couldn’t help but glance toward the cabin, where the Lan doctors were caring for their bodies. Lan Sizhui stood over them, watching sadly but with understanding. But twin lines of silver reflected the moon on his face. Yuyan lowered his gaze out of respect.

“It seems…they were bound by something deeper than mortal bonds,” he observed, not sure what else to say.

Zewu Jun’s soft brown eyes turned to him with a look of mild surprise. He eventually accepted this with a soft nod, but he did not seem entirely happy about it. “Thank you, Clan Leader Jiang. I gather you have been caring for Ziluan all this time.”

Yuyan shook his head dismissively, at all times in awe of the venerable cultivator before him. 

“He was injured?”

Yuyan swallowed his guilt over the incident, sensing no value in concealing the truth. He nodded. “It was my error. I misunderstood his intentions.”

Again, he was sure there was more than just acceptance in Zewu Jun’s eyes as he nodded slightly, and Yuyan felt a surge of guilt once again. “And may I ask your impression of him now?” the Lan master asked softly.

Yuyan had not forgotten that he still had a duty to evaluate the boy. In all honesty, he did not feel as capable of doing so as he had before. It was difficult to see someone break down like that, even more so to feel them helplessly clinging to one’s back like an abandoned puppy, and maintain objectivity. But there was one thing he still felt quite sure about.

He sighed. “I will be honest, Zewu Jun. There is no doubt about his talent. But he is…naïve. About many things. I gather he is very attached to those who raised him. Of course I wouldn’t criticize that, but it is my judgment that he needs to see much more of the world before he can stand on his own. Perhaps an indoctrination period with another clan.”

Lan Xichen took this in steadily, resting his chin on his hand as he considered Yuyan’s thoughts. Yuyan swallowed nervously in fear the powerful master would object to his assessment, and might even retaliate. But far from it.

“I see. You make an excellent point.” Zewu Jun turned to smile at him softly, and to Yuyan’s shock, he raised both hands before him and leaned forward in an elegant bow. “In that case, we will gladly leave Ziluan in your care, Clan Leader Jiang.”

Yuyan physically recoiled, feeling mildly sick. “I…no…not my clan. I would have thought the Jin Clan, especially since-“

“That might be somewhat awkward for Ziluan. I’m sure you understand.”

He did understand, he wasn’t ignorant of the rumors after all, but he had to look for an escape route from this unpleasant outcome. “Then…the Nie could-“

Zewu Jun only raised his eyebrows slightly in reaction to this, and that was enough to stop Yuyan’s tongue. He sighed heavily as he was forced to admit to himself the Nie clan would chew up that boy and spit him out. If not actually kill him. The former clan leader had retired and passed over control to a myrmidon who had mastered the saber spirit technique, and since then the clan had developed a reputation for being utterly ruthless. 

“Baoshan…Sanren’s sect could…” he mumbled halfheartedly. 

Zewu Jun let out a rather sympathetic chuckle. “If he could find them, perhaps. But even if she still lives, I believe her sect refuses to teach outsiders. And also forbids rejoining the mortal world after training. And it may be the sentimentality of an old grand-uncle, but I think it is far too soon for us to lose Ziluan that way.”

Yuyan let out a long breath, but realized he had quite effectively dug his own grave before he even started. 

Zewu Jun’s gaze lowered again before he asked softly, “I will attempt to hold a ceremony for my brother and his husband tomorrow, or perhaps the following day. Will you stay, Clan Leader Jiang?”

Especially given that he would be inevitably returning to Yunmeng with a troublesome puppy in tow, there was really no reason to return now. He clasped his hands and bowed respectfully to Zewu Jun. 

“Please allow me to honor your brother with you, Zewu Jun.”

The elder’s face warmed slightly and he nodded. But Yuyan did not miss the deep melancholy that seemed to linger behind the smiles of this family. Especially as Zewu Jun joined his nephew inside the cabin in observing their motionless bodies, Yuyan was struck by the beauty of their mourning. It was not without sadness, but only accepting of suffering as a necessary part of being human. He found himself hoping that eventually Lan Ziluan could find that kind of peace, and at the same time, didn’t consider whether he ever could himself.


	4. Lotus Seed Bun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziluan begins indoctrination at the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. A little drinking at the midwinter festival leads to an unintentional revelation of his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Lan Ziluan’s nickname from the Jiang sect, “Cangying Jun” 苍蝇君 (“Lord Housefly”), is partly based on his father Sizhui’s title “Cangfeng Jun” 苍风君 (“Lord of Blue-Gray Wind”), and partly on the insult “wutou canying” 无头苍蝇, (“airhead,” lit. "headless housefly").
> 
> \- Jiang Yuyan’s (former) wife is Hua Airong 华爱蓉.
> 
> \- His son is Jiang Jian 江涧, courtesy name Chenxi 晨曦.
> 
> \- The song mentioned is the Ballad of Luofu, translation (with edits) by Edward Lien.

Jiang Yuyan felt awkward staying in the Cloud Recesses, not just because of all the precepts he suddenly had to follow. The people here were all so quiet. Most were also delicate and refined like Cangfeng Jun. Yuyan felt like a beast by comparison. It didn’t help when younger disciples scurried out of his way with looks of fear. 

The only person he really knew here, apart from the ethereal Cangfeng Jun and Zewu Jun, wouldn’t speak to him. He tried several times to get Lan Ziluan’s attention, to draw his mind away from the darkness that was surely engulfing it, but as much as the young cultivator was normally lost in his thoughts, now he seemed utterly in his own world. In the end, it wasn’t until after the ceremony for Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun that he was even able to coax two words from him.

He approached him after the disciples had finished cleaning up from the ceremony. “I talked it over with Zewu Jun,” he said, and even he thought that was probably abrupt. He said a little more softly, “He agrees you could use some time away from the Cloud Recesses. Has he talked to you about it?”

Ziluan considered for a moment, but eventually shook his head. Yuyan had a feeling that wasn’t quite true; likely Zewu Jun had indeed mentioned it but Ziluan just hadn’t heard.

“And so…he suggested Lotus Pier.”

Ziluan didn’t seem to have much reaction to this. Either he had stopped listening, or he simply didn’t have room in his head for this topic right now. Yuyan sighed. 

“Of course nobody is commanding you. It’s a suggestion. But, well…if you want a place in Lotus Pier, you have it, that’s all.”

Ziluan’s eyes widened and he looked up at Yuyan in surprise. Yuyan took in a sharp breath, not having realized before how large Lan Ziluan’s eyes were. He really couldn’t shake the image of a small, large-eared puppy looking up mournfully at him. Moments later, however, his gaze lowered again.

“Zewu Jun is disappointed with me…” he guessed softly.

Yuyan was certain that wasn’t the case, but even laid low as he was, he had little patience for this boy. Partly out of annoyance, he played along, “And if he is? What would you do about it?”

Ziluan’s expression changed and suddenly he seemed on the verge of tears. Yuyan immediately regretted his words. But to his surprise, in Ziluan’s large and somewhat watery eyes, determination rose up amid the sadness. “ ‘Do not give up on learning,’ ” he murmured to himself. 

“Well if you know, then what are you still moping about?” Yuyan demanded. 

He was about to tell him to get ready to leave for Lotus Pier when he felt a flash of anger from the mild-mannered Ziluan. Yuyan raised an eyebrow at this show of defiance. He considered challenging that impudent expression, but the next moment, the young cultivator gave an obedient bow. He apparently managed to let go of whatever emotion Yuyan had just evoked in him.

“Yes, Clan Leader. I’ll go.”

…

Unlike the frequent awkward silences on the journey here, the way back was utterly silent until they were almost at Lotus Pier. Perhaps the trust that Yuyan had gained by letting Ziluan grieve a little was broken by asking him to suddenly stop. 

Yuyan did glance Ziluan’s way now and then, but couldn’t make out any emotion in his expression at all. It did force him repeatedly to admit to himself how well-proportioned Ziluan’s face was. With only the slightest change in hairstyle, he thought, he could easily pass for a girl. But the moment he had this thought, Yuyan had to physically grasp his sword hilt stop from punching himself. What kind of a thought was that?! Who cared if he was pretty?!

At one point, as they were coasting smoothly through the river system leading to Lotus Pier, Yuyan’s eye caught movement sneaking up into the boat. 

“Watch out!” 

Without thinking, he snatched Ziluan up with one arm while drawing Jiujiu with the other to flick the water snake that had been approaching his leg back into the water. Yuyan sighed with irritation, now noticing the water all around here was roiling with them. Either mating season or a feeding frenzy, but either way they were likely to jump in the boat again. 

“Uh…Clan Leader…” Ziluan murmured hesitantly. 

Yuyan only just realized that he had picked him up as he would his son, cradling his back with his elbow and grasping him under his knees. The young cultivator was so petite he hadn’t really noticed anything strange about the urge to lift him this way. He flushed deeply scarlet, but wasn’t sure what might be the most dignified way to get out of this situation. 

“Th-…thank you,” Ziluan said politely. “Now that I see the threat, I can watch out for my own feet.”

Yuyan gritted his teeth in irritation that this impudent man was still trying to be polite despite Yuyan’s own lack of decorum. 

“I didn’t even notice picking you up,” Yuyan grumbled. “I could hold ten little shrimp like you without batting an eyelash. Settle down. The injured should just let people take care of them,” he concluded, halfheartedly flicking another snake from the boat.

To his surprise, though he couldn’t see his face from this angle, when Ziluan spoke there was a soft sound of a smile in his voice. “I appreciate that you didn’t kill them,” he said.

“Nh? Why would I?” Yuyan muttered off-handedly. He flicked another one back away from the boat. “They’re not dangerous to anything bigger than a frog.”

Ziluan chuckled. “Is that so? But you still picked me up.”

“I…” Yuyan flushed again, mostly in frustration this time. “Listen. Don’t mock your elders! You can stay there and be quiet, or I can dump you in the water. I really don’t care which.”

Ziluan did let out another soft chuckle, but kept any further comments to himself. Yuyan placed him back down with another blush as soon as they were free of the mess of snakes. Soon after, they made the dock and were greeted by a flurry of servants and myrmidons, who seemed to have heard the news about Hanguang Jun and the Yiling Patriarch and were eager to hear the full story from Yuyan. 

With a nervous glance over his shoulder at the darkening of Ziluan’s expression, Yuyan barked, “Is it your job to gossip? Linhan.” He beckoned over one of his senior myrmidons. “Can you find a place for this one?”

The older man nodded with a brief glance at Ziluan. “Of course, Clan Leader. Any special instructions?”

Yuyan shook his head. “Just another stray. Do what you always do.”

He didn’t stick around to find out Lan Ziluan’s opinion about that. While he had some concerns about repercussions if the son of Cangfeng Jun came to any harm, or even if he were merely insulted, he wasn’t lying when he told Zewu Jun what he thought Ziluan needed. The best way to get more experience was seeing the world from different perspectives.

With that, Jiang Yuyan kept a relatively hands-off approach to the indoctrination of Lan Ziluan, merely letting him join in the other young myrmidons’ training. In the meantime, he corresponded with Cangfeng Jun and also Jin Rulan about the incident with the dire owl. There had been no similar reports since it had been seen disappearing somewhere north of Gusu. With no other leads, he was forced to drop the matter for now.

After several weeks, he was relieved that Ziluan seemed to be getting along with his other myrmidons. Not that he was particularly popular, but it only took a few days for him to earn the nickname, “Cangying Jun.” Yuyan was…fairly certain it was affectionate. But it was also the sort of thing he, personally, would say as an insult. Another factor might be the fact that, even though he was clad like all other Jiang myrmidons in dark purple and blue, Lan Ziluan kept his sparking white headband, always marking him as both something to admire and target. But as far as the nickname, Ziluan smiled when they said it, so either way he didn’t seem to mind.

Though the weather in Yunmeng remained tolerable all year round, it was soon approaching the end of the twelfth month, and therefore the Dongzhi Festival. Yuyan felt a slight worry about what it would be like for Ziluan to be away from home, no doubt for the first time, during the holiday. At the same time, he did not spare a thought for whether his wife – former wife, as he still kept correcting himself – and son might come to Yunmeng. No doubt they would be happy to be with the Hua clan and Airong’s family, he thought. 

Since he was currently the only person born with the surname “Jiang” in Lotus Pier, he didn’t bother waking anyone up early on the day of the festival, and went to worship in his ancestral hall alone. With the mild bite of winter wind in the brisk morning air, and the old desire to be with family at this time, it felt undeniably lonely. But Yuyan was a man of peculiar temperament. He didn’t hate that feeling. 

He appreciated the soft glow of dawn light making orange shadows over the water as he walked, and his eyes followed a crane that took wing, wary of his presence. Another joined it, and they disappeared around a bend in the river as a pair. 

He knelt before his ancestors, lit three sticks of incense with a small incantation, and performed three obeisances. That done, he took a deep breath and observed his father and mother’s names, along with others he had never known. 

He only knew from rumor and brief talks with his father, something terrible had befallen their family in the wake of those two volatile men: Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao. The trauma had been so great that Jiang Cheng, his father, had not been able to bring himself to marry until he was already in his forties. And then, a night hunt while both his parents were in their seventies had taken them, when Yuyan was only twenty-five. As a result, he had had a brief enough life with his own parents, while the names of his aunt and grandparents were only that to him. No impression of who they were at all.

Fear of repeating his father’s mistakes had led him to marry and have a child arguably too early, at eighteen. That method seemed to have its own set of problems. He was constantly troubled by the fact that he didn’t know why his marriage had failed. But today wasn’t for worrying about that. 

“A-Jian seems to be doing fine,” he said, glancing up at his parents’ names. “Every time I see him he’s more like you, Mother. Noble and kind. Everyone says he’s already much more handsome than me. You would have doted on him, I’m sure, Father. Made me and Rulan jealous,” he added with a chuckle. 

“And I…” he struggled to finish that sentence as he realized he didn’t know how. He sighed. “I don’t want to give up on having a family inside these halls again. But…maybe you can tell me. How should I do that?”

But for the odd ting of metal in the gentle early morning breeze, the tablets above him were silent. Perhaps they had no answer either. Or more likely, Yuyan had never sought the kind of spiritual purity that would let him hear such a soft sound as the love of the departed. He stayed with them for a while anyway, until the cold and sitting in this posture made him lose the feeling in his legs.

That night, as was the custom in Lotus Pier, Jiang Yuyan arranged for a feast for all inhabitants. Especially with him being the only aristocrat in residence, it didn’t make much sense to have two separate celebrations this year. The banquet hall was therefore packed with servants and myrmidons, as well as their older relatives. Almost everyone contributed something to the cooking. It was a little more chaotic than usual, but very pleasant, even for the silence-loving Yuyan. 

He kept an eye on the only myrmidon with a white headband, but there didn’t seem to be anything to worry about. The myrmidons nearby him were introducing their family and urging him to drink, and in general he seemed quite pleased. So after eating a little each of the traditional foods, Yuyan sat back contentedly with warm rice wine while the revelry went on around him. 

It took him some time to realize he had made a miscalculation. While the tangyuan of Yunmeng were vegetarian, they were just about the only thing at the banquet that was. Moreover, they were served with sweet fermented rice broth. In other words, at the same time other myrmidons had been pushing the young Ziluan to drink, the only food he had been picking at was glutinous rice soaked in mildly alcoholic broth. Yuyan’s face steadily grew pale as he looked across the table to see a desire to do mischief creeping over Lan Ziluan’s slightly red face.

“Hey, you Lan sect are all good at music, right? How about a song?” called one nearby myrmidon. 

“A song, a song!” agreed another. “Let’s hear your pretty voice, Cangying Jun!”

Ziluan looked around innocently for a moment before pointing at his nose (at first, then his finger drifted absently in another direction). As more voices joined requesting a song, he smiled and gestured for silence, rising from his seat. But then he stamped a foot down on his seat, slapped one hand on his chest and gestured dramatically with the other.

“The Ballad…of Lan Xichen.”

Yuyan gaped in horror. He wanted to cover his face in anticipated shame of what was about to happen, but he couldn’t stop from peeking through his fingers at the spectacle. 

Lan Ziluan took a breath in, and sang in a melodious tenor,

“The sun rises from the southeast corner,  
Shines on our Lan clan house.  
The Lan clan has a pretty son;  
He calls himself Xichen.”

Lan Ziluan’s voice rang out beautifully, clearly singing the a well-known ballad of Luofu…with some alterations. Yuyan’s face gradually grew red on Ziluan’s behalf and he buried his face in his hands. How could he ever look Zewu Jun in the eye again after this?

“When passers-by see Xichen,  
They put down their loads and stroke their beards.  
When young rascals see Xichen,  
They remove their caps and adjust their headcloths.  
Plowmen forget their plows;  
Hoers forget their hoes.  
When they return home and complain,  
It is all because of seeing Xichen!”

Cheers and raucous whoops interrupted the ridiculous song here and there, but some were clearly enjoying it, not noticing the alteration of the lyrics. After he could bear it no more, Yuyan got up and tapped on Linhan’s shoulder. When his myrmidon turned curiously, Yuyan merely thrust his chin out in the direction of the spectacle. Linhan gave an understanding nod. 

When the ballad ended and Ziluan bowed, though some were calling for another in the same vein, Linhan took advantage of Ziluan opening his mouth to speak in order to place a small osmanthus cake inside it and grasp the young cultivator around the shoulders, guiding him over to a quieter place to rest. Typical of Ziluan, once he was settled there and Linhan had provided him with a profusion of snacks, he seemed quite contented to sit and eat cakes as if nothing had happened.

Yuyan lowered his head to force himself to stop watching, otherwise he would surely start crying from laughter. What a ridiculous man. Yuyan shook his head to rid himself of the thought of everything he had just seen and attempted to quietly rejoin the banquet, hoping that Ziluan and everyone else would be obliged to forget that little performance.

But eventually, likely as a result of having been drinking himself, Yuyan felt pity at leaving Ziluan on his own. He picked up a couple of sweets in one hand and a jug of water in the other, and made his way over to the quiet bench from where Ziluan was sleepily watching the banquet.

“Well? Sobered up yet, young minstrel?” he asked.

Ziluan blinked up at him, apparently only just noticing his presence. “Clan Leader Jiang! Forgive my rudeness.” He stood and bowed ungracefully. The apology seemed to be for failing to notice him, not for the song.

Yuyan pushed down his hands to dismiss the gesture and nodded for him to sit back down. “I came over here to sit too. Sit down, sit down.”

They sat together, and Yuyan offered him the jug of water. “Take that,” he said.

Ziluan obediently took it, after which he rested it in his lap and stared off into space.

Yuyan sighed in irritation, really having to struggle to force down the smile that kept tugging at his mouth. “I meant take it…and drink it, Cangying Jun. I didn’t just want you to hold it. That nickname really suits you,” he added, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Ah.”

Ziluan reluctantly took a few sips of water, after which he returned the jug to his lap and resumed his blank stare in the vague direction of the revelry. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, but content to appreciate the scene in a passive way.

In spite of himself, Yuyan let out a soft, derisive chuckle. He held out both hands, one of which held a lotus seed bun, in the other a jian dui. “Want that? Or that?”

“Ooh,” Ziluan said delightedly, accepting the lotus seed bun and munching contentedly with the same blank expression as before. 

Yuyan bit his lip to stop from smiling, soon bringing the jian dui to his own mouth and eating alongside Ziluan. He took the jug back from Ziluan and had a drink of water, watching the same sight with him. “How’s Lotus Pier so far then?” he asked. 

“Oh,” Ziluan contemplated, still chewing. “Warm.”

“Well, it’s a river valley. Yes, it’s warm.”

Ziluan nodded, but after swallowing the bite he had been chewing, he lowered his hands. His expression grew heavy and forlorn. 

“You know,” Ziluan said, leaning in conspiratorially. At first Yuyan thought he would do something funny again, but when he whispered, touching his arm for support, it was as if he were a child afraid of being reprimanded. “Wei-yeye said…he grew up here.”

Yuyan was struck again by how hard things must be for this young cultivator right now. When Yuyan lost his own parents, it had been hard, but Airong was there. They had A-Jian to care for. There wasn’t much of a gap to let the despair sink in. He had never really felt all that alone, in spite of being the only patriarch left in his family, but perhaps simply knowing one’s origins had a stabilizing effect. One which Ziluan didn’t have.

“Mm-hmm,” Yuyan agreed softly. “My father said so too.”

Ziluan’s large, puppy-like eyes looked up at him in fascination. “Mm,” he murmured. Yuyan noticed that he still hadn’t let go of his arm, and it was starting to be a little embarrassing. “Clan Leader Jiang…do you look like your father?”

With the pity he felt for Ziluan, he patiently considered the question despite its abrupt and personal nature. “Hm,” he thought about it. “My mother said we have the same jaw. I think my father’s eyes were a little softer than mine. But I’m taller.”

“Oh,” Ziluan replied, watching him in a way that was a little too observant. “It’s nice,” he commented at length. 

Yuyan snorted in an undignified way that he very much hoped Ziluan would forget by tomorrow. “What? My face is?”

“Mm.”

He rolled his eyes. “Settle down, pretty boy. You’re not drunk enough to be flirting with a middle-aged uncle.”

Ziluan looked somewhat disappointed and finally let go of Yuyan’s arm. 

“What’s the matter now?” he asked, still quite amused by the drunk young cultivator’s behavior.

“Yunmeng…Jiang Sect,” Ziluan murmured quietly to himself. He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I wonder what it was like. I always wanted to know how Wei-yeye met Hanguang Jun.”

“Didn’t they tell you?”

Ziluan tilted his head reluctantly. “It’s not the same as being there.” He surprised Yuyan by looking up at him with the same fascination of before, but now with a hint of pity. “Is it true? Did…Wei-yeye…hurt your father?”

Yuyan closed his eyes and reluctantly shook his head. “He didn’t talk about that much.”

Ziluan took this in for a moment, seeming troubled. 

“There’s no point in looking like that,” he said gently. “Neither you nor I knows exactly what happened. Why feel guilty about ancient history?”

Ziluan eventually gave a subtle nod, but seemed to still be thinking. Eventually, he turned his head in Yuyan’s direction but didn’t look up at him. It was a strangely intimate gesture, as if he might rest his head against his shoulder, but hesitated from doing so. His small chest rose and fell heavily. 

Yuyan knew he should probably retreat from whatever was happening, but something drew him to stay close. To keep watching the delicate man beside him, who seemed on the verge of telling him something important.

“Clan Leader…”

“…what is it?” Yuyan murmured nervously.

Those large, black eyes finally looked up toward him. Their former worried expression softened the longer they looked over Yuyan’s face, causing him to blush. It wasn’t quite fair for such a good-looking man to stare at him so closely.

“You’re…very nice,” Ziluan said softly.

Yuyan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, shaking his head in both relief and frustration. “Fine, fine. That’s what you wanted to say? I got it. Thank you.”

Ziluan’s brows drew together in sadness as his gaze turned down. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“Ah…?” Yuyan blurted out in surprise. He was sure he was supposed to say something reassuring, but everything that came to his mind sounded overly sentimental. He didn’t want to encourage this weird boy. So he made an awkward noise while the right words continued to evade him.

Ziluan sniffed, sadness overtaking his expression. Without another word, he took his sword and lotus seed bun and swept off toward the myrmidon sleeping area. 

Yuyan sat with his mouth hanging open as he stared after him. Some distance away, Linhan looked over at him with a strange and, Yuyan thought, somewhat judgmental expression. Yuyan only looked back at him with righteous indignation.

“Well what did I do?!” he demanded.


	5. Wild Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Ziluan meets Jiang Yuyan's son for the first time. It does not go well. Yuyan finds out, and his anger causes him to leave Ziluan with incredibly hurtful words.

Lan Ziluan was on his way back to his sleeping quarters, already having forgotten why he was sad in his hazy state of mind, when he spotted an unfamiliar figure, standing inside the Jiang ancestral hall. He stopped and looked for some time in surprise, not having seen this person at the banquet and wondering who it could be.

The slight but tall figure was dressed in elegant pink and green, giving the impression of a wild rose bush. But though their slenderness seemed to indicate youth, a sword at their side made it clear this was a cultivator. Ziluan’s brows furrowed. He (slightly clumsily) put the lotus seed bun he had received from Jiang Yuyan inside his robes and prepared to draw his sword.

“You…you there,” he addressed the stranger, who gasped and turned. “This…this is…” Ziluan struggled to think of a reason why someone should not be here. Failing that, he then also somehow forgot the word ‘ancestral hall.’ In the end, his conclusion was merely, “…not a place for tourists.”

“I know,” answered a high but familiar voice. 

Ziluan tilted his head. He recognized that voice. It was one he liked very much. He took a step forward to better see the figure in the dark. His breath caught as, for a moment, he wondered if he had been transported back in time. 

Smiling with soft curiosity, dressed in unfamiliar but elegant, natural colors, he could swear he was looking at a teenage Jiang Yuyan. A mere slip of a boy, with a fragile bearing but already a hint of wildness. Perhaps more warmth and softness than Yuyan. Ziluan was in awe of the boy and neglected any attempt to continue the conversation.

The boy’s eyes flicked up to Ziluan’s headband, and then back down to the Jiang colors he currently wore with mild confusion. “Are you…a myrmidon of the Jiang sect?”

Ziluan blinked. “Myrmidon…? Oh. A disciple? Yes, I must be. And you…Young Master, you know, this place is only for the Jiang family. Especially today.”

“Well. As my surname is ‘Jiang,’ I imagine it’s all right, then.”

Ziluan felt as if cold water had been dumped over him. Even in his drunken state, he felt in his bones that he didn’t need anyone to tell him who this person was. “Young Master…Jiang…” he murmured.

Jiang Chenxi, first and only child of Jiang Yuyan, tilted his head with a mild look of discomfort. “The Hua clan isn’t so formal. I suppose I’ll have to get used to being called ‘Young Master’ once I return.”

“Return…” Ziluan repeated. 

Chenxi nodded. “As is my birthright.” The boy sighed slightly, casting his gaze down. “Which I suppose means having to get used to life with rough and savage oafs like my father again.” 

Ziluan blinked, trying to rid himself of drink by will alone. The words had come so casually and without obvious malice that at first he completely missed how brazenly insulting they were both to Jiang Yuyan and to Lotus Pier. Had he misheard?

The elegant boy gazed up at the names of his grandparents and great aunt, but understandably without the slightest recognition, and only a hint of melancholy. “But sadly I was born a boy. I can’t change my surname. I’d consider becoming a cut-sleeve if not for mortal fear of what my father would do to me,” he added with a chuckle.

Even he didn’t know why, but Ziluan felt a bundle of horrible emotions tangled up inside him at the thought of this person coming to live in Lotus Pier near Jiang Yuyan. Not just because he had made a casual joke about something that at times made Ziluan fear for his life, not only because he had insulted Jiang Yuyan, but something even deeper made him feel extremely anxious around this person. It would be a long time before Ziluan recognized this emotion as jealousy.

“You can’t!” he blurted without thinking.

Jiang Chenxi raised his eyebrows at the outburst. He let out a reluctant laugh. “Relax. It was a joke. More importantly, sir, may I ask who you are? I know most of my father’s myrmidons by sight and have never seen you. Nor have I ever seen a myrmidon so confused in their attire,” he added with a flick of his eyes up toward Ziluan’s headband.

“You…should go home. Young Master Jiang,” Ziluan told him, getting out the words with difficulty. ‘Do not give in to rage,’ he repeated internally to himself.

Chenxi let out a mildly surprised laugh. He turned to face Ziluan and took a step toward him with a look of incredulity, highly resembling his father at that moment. Ziluan instinctively retreated as he realized the boy was already taller than him. 

“I am Jiang Jian, courtesy name Chenxi,” he said with soft insistence. “This is my home.”

“Where you came from then,” Ziluan answered bitterly, casting his gaze away. “Do not burden Clan Leader Jiang with unnecessary things tonight.”

“…is he your father too, that you speak so presumptuously?” the boy asked with rising anger, though he kept it much better concealed than his father. “I have introduced myself, sir, and your rudeness increases the longer you do not.”

But Ziluan’s jaw only tightened at feeling cornered. He did not know this boy, but he knew one thing: he did not like him. If he had been sober, he was sure he would have been able to smile though this animosity, but particularly with how insecure he was feeling toward the boy’s father at this moment, his defenses were down. 

“He said such kind things about you…a waste of good words,” Ziluan murmured bitterly.

Just as the boy’s eyes hardened with further incredulity at Ziluan’s obstinance, a voice from behind Ziluan’s back.

“A-Jian…?”

ZIluan froze at the voice he knew much better than the higher one he’d just been hearing. He wanted to run, not even sure why, but he couldn’t move.

Jiang Yuyan approached behind him, glancing down at Ziluan with disbelief before turning back up to his son with a slightly softer expression. “You came to see them?” he asked, indicating the names of the ancestors.

Chenxi smiled softly, but also glanced at Ziluan. “It didn’t feel right to simply miss a year after all.”

Yuyan had an unreadable expression as he turned his gaze down to the ground near Chenxi’s feet, then nodded. “There’s still plenty of food left. Eat before you sleep. Your room is always kept ready.”

Chenxi clasped his hands and bowed. “Thank you, Father.”

Briefly, Yuyan’s jaw tightened as he looked down at Ziluan again, but he wiped the expression away. “Go on ahead and I’ll join you in a moment. I need a word with Lan Ziluan.”

“Master Lan Ziluan,” Chenxi repeated softly to himself. He offered a thin smile to Ziluan. “I’ll remember.”

With that, he gracefully moved past them, and now Ziluan and Yuyan stood alone outside the ancestral hall. Ziluan knew something bad was coming. But he had no way of knowing exactly what a bitter chord he had struck inside Jiang Yuyan. 

“…were you spying on me?” Yuyan growled softly.

Ziluan gasped, realizing he had just revealed his presence early this morning. He hadn’t meant to snoop. It had been his intention to give a winter solstice greeting to the Jiang family, early enough that it wouldn’t bother anyone. He had no idea Yuyan was almost as early a riser as he, as he overheard the lovely but somehow incredibly lonely and sad words. 

Yuyan didn’t wait for him to answer and sighed heavily, burying his face in his hand. “And telling my son he can’t come home? Lan Ziluan…I gave you a lot of credit out of respect for Zewu Jun, but…just who do you think you are?”

Ziluan felt coldness hit his stomach at the same time his eyes felt so hot he could barley see. Tears ran down his face as he racked his addled brain to think of an excuse. 

Yuyan paced back and forth, shaking his head. “I’ve indulged you a little bit because I pitied you, but this is crossing a line. I don’t know if you really are a cut-sleeve, or if you really have feelings for me or not. Whatever this is, end it. Right now. I can’t be looking over my shoulder wondering if I’m being chased by a love-sick puppy, and I won’t hesitate to kill anyone who threatens my family. Is that clear?”

Ziluan closed his eyes to try and pretend this wasn’t happening, only sending more hot tears streaming down his cheeks. There was no way he could answer. He hadn’t even realized his own feelings until this moment, and now they were being crushed before his eyes. 

“Go to bed once you’re done crying. And don’t talk to Chenxi again.”

Ziluan couldn’t open his eyes even as Jiang Yuyan’s footsteps slowly faded away. He slowly crumpled to his knees before the Jiang ancestors, and whispered that he was sorry.


	6. Owl Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dire owl again threatens Lotus Pier. Despite his own pain at losing Jiang Yuyan's approval, Lan Ziluan attempts a heroic sacrifice.

Morning dawned on quite a difference scene. Ziluan clutched his head. Partly because it hurt, but mostly out of overpowering shame. How much of these fuzzy memories were real? He definitely remembered singing something incredibly inappropriate, and afterward he thought Clan Leader Jiang came to sit with him, and after that…

But before he had even fully come to his senses that morning, the peaceful hours just after sunrise in Lotus Pier were broken by a chilling scream.

“Ahhhhh!! Clan Leader! Clan Leader!”

Ziluan felt his blood run cold. For an instant, he pictured Jiang Yuyan lying curled up and cold as his grandfathers had been. But he quickly realized, from the sound of the speaker’s running away and continuing to call, that she was calling for him, not about him. 

Just as Ziluan rushed out, Jiang Yuyan appeared from his bedchamber, awake but rather disheveled, with this hair braided loosely for sleep and only wearing a soft lilac undergarment. Ziluan blushed and quickly looked away, as the garment revealed more or less all of Yuyan’s lanky body shape and some well-muscled skin of his legs and chest. Finding out Jiang Yuyan had chest hair, for example, was not something likely to help Ziluan calm himself down.

The clan leader followed the servant who had screamed, and Ziluan hurried after them. Several clan members had gathered around what seemed to be a pool of red. Ziluan’s breath stopped in horror. 

As the clan members backed away to let Clan Leader Jiang through, Ziluan caught a glimpse of what they had been looking at. A myrmidon, one who Ziluan had talked to several times before, lay on his back, staring blankly up at the sky. But there was no doubt the light had gone from his eyes. 

The area where his heart should be was completely caved in to a pointed shape, nearly reaching the ground beneath him. Even more disturbing, though he could only look for a moment before feeling sick, Ziluan was sure he saw a trace of smoke rising up from the center of the crater in the man’s chest.

Jiang Yuyan knelt beside the body. In spite of its horrific state, he seemed calm as he picked up his wrist to feel the man’s qi. Ziluan wondered why he would bother, when surviving such an injury was clearly impossible, but he realized that of course Yuyan was just looking for answers. Silence had fallen as soon as he arrived, as all waited to hear their clan leader’s guidance.

Though Yuyan’s expression hadn’t changed, he seemed frustrated. After a pause, he asked, “Nobody saw what happened?”

There were murmurs of denial, some exchanging looks but indeed no one seemed to have any idea what had happened.

Yuyan sighed. He did not move for some time as he continued feeling the man’s qi. “Ziluan,” he said at length.

Ziluan was stunned to be addressed at a time like this. To be honest, the deaths of his grandfathers were still too fresh in his mind. Just being in the vicinity of death was horrific for him. He reluctantly stepped forward, keeping his gaze on the periphery of the scene.

“…yes?”

Yuyan gestured for him to come closer and kneel beside him. Ziluan swallowed a feeling of wanting to throw up. He cautiously crouched nearby, but would not put even one knee on the ground for fear of coming into contact with the blood. 

“Your cultivation is the next highest here,” Yuyan said softly, apparently not wanting any others nearby to hear. “Do me a favor. Feel his qi. And tell me I’m not crazy.”

He gave Ziluan the dead man’s hand. Ziluan froze once he felt the lingering warmth slowly beginning to fade in the heavy flesh in his hands. He glanced at Yuyan in panic, but Yuyan unhesitatingly moved Ziluan’s fingers onto the man’s meridian. With Yuyan’s fingers over his own and no other option, he halfheartedly tried to feel the poor man’s qi. 

Ziluan quickly frowned. He concentrated and even closed off his other senses to be sure. It was slowly fading, but while the man had no pulse and barely any blood left in his body, his heart and lungs utterly broken, the light gone from his eyes, yet somehow his golden core was still spinning. 

“His golden core…” Ziluan whispered. “Is he…a fierce corpse?”

Yuyan looked doubtful. “I didn’t know the Ghost General, Wen Ning, that well. But I don’t think he had a golden core. But your grandfather would know about that sort of thing better than me.”

“He never told me about demonic cultivation. Hanguang Jun forbid it,” Ziluan murmured.

Yuyan rubbed his eye tiredly. “I’m sure that was wise,” he grumbled reluctantly. “Though the art may now be gone along with him, about which I have mixed feelings. As, I’m sure, do you.” He wiped his face with his hand as if trying to rid himself of sleep. “You Lan sect have a massive library, don’t you? Have you ever read of a golden core outliving its bearer?”

Ziluan flushed, as old insecurities suddenly became a source of shame when they really mattered. “I…I’m not sure…”

Yuyan just nodded before levying himself up to his feet, which Ziluan quickly copied. Yuyan turned to the nearest servant and addressed her softly, “Send for a doctor. And a priest. Did he have family?”

“…no, Clan Leader…”

“It was…Yang Zhao, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Clan Leader.”

Yuyan nodded again, looking once more down at the body. Ziluan couldn’t quite read his expression, but surprisingly, in the tightening of his jaw, he thought he saw traces of anger carefully held back. 

“In the meantime, find something to cover him up,” Yuyan said with more volume, addressing everyone nearby. “Don’t let any of the young ones see. I’m going to write to the other clan leaders. If there’s some unknown force coming for Lotus Pier,” he added with a lingering growl in the back of his throat, “we’ll make it pay.”

Ziluan didn’t know quite what to think of all this. He had an instinct that he should return to the Cloud Recesses and make sure Lan Sizhui and Lan Xichen were safe. But he felt even more strongly that he couldn’t abandon Lotus Pier when it seemed they were in need. There was also something else nagging at him, making him think he needed to apologize to Clan Leader Jiang about something, but it wouldn’t come to him.

Just a couple of hours later however, which Ziluan only found out by overhearing gossip among the other myrmidons, Jiang Yuyan prepared to leave for Carp Tower. He was to meet with the Chief Cultivator, Jin Rulan. Ziluan felt cold at the thought that Yuyan hadn’t even mentioned it to him, and suddenly he had a flash of Yuyan saying something in anger to him the previous night. Was it a dream? Either way, rushed out to meet him as he was leaving.

“Clan Leader!”

Yuyan stopped, as in turn did the two myrmidons he was apparently bringing with him. He raised an eyebrow at Ziluan’s distress, not even seeming to know why he would be upset.

“You’re going to Carp Tower?” Ziluan asked softly.

“…yes…?” Yuyan growled, seeming irritated to have been stopped.

“I…” Ziluan felt a wave of loneliness and inferiority as he thought back to only this morning, when Yuyan had said his cultivation was the next highest, after his own. Why wouldn’t he ask him to come? “…I am not upset by this morning, if you were worried,” he murmured meekly.

Yuyan scoffed, but the expression was truly bitter and devoid of interest. “Good for you.” With that, he simply turned and started out toward the gate.

“If-!” Ziluan held him back urgently. “If…that was why you…did not ask me to come…”

Coldness rolled over Yuyan’s expression, and Ziluan felt once again how much he resembled a wolf. So alike to a tame creature, but without fear or restraint. And liable to bite. 

“Must I explain every decision to every myrmidon or minor cultivator in my acquaintance?” Yuyan asked with righteous anger only just restrained.

Ziluan’s breath left him with the wind of pain that swept through it. His gaze fell as he realized how useless his presence really was to Jiang Yuyan. He had had a chance to prove himself this morning and had failed. Of course, he realized. There was nothing special about him. There was no reason for Yuyan to rely on him in a crisis. 

“Clan Leader,” said Linhan, beside him. “In the case that there really is an assassin aiming at the Jiang clan, it would not hurt to have another powerful cultivator on the road to Lanling.”

“Nh?” Yuyan grumbled irritably. “Isn’t that all the more reason to leave him here? A lot more here that needs protecting than what we’re taking with us on the road.”

“But Clan Leader…Yang Zhao’s face…you can’t have failed to notice…” Linhan murmured, in a voice only meant for Jiang Yuyan.

Yuyan’s jaw shifted. He looked immensely displeased as his gaze briefly flicked over to Ziluan. “Suit yourselves…Zhuang Yan,” he snapped to the other myrmidon beside him. “Go and fetch the Young Master.”

Zhuang Yan nodded and took off for the young master’s sleeping quarters while the rest waited, Jiang Yuyan with his arms crossed and a stormy expression. Ziluan rather weakly managed a grateful smile toward Linhan for his suggestion. But he wondered what Linhan had been referring to; he hadn’t noticed anything particularly strange about the fallen myrmidon’s face. 

When the young master arrived, almost a mirror image of his father but smaller, softer and in colors of a wild rose rather than a lotus, suddenly crucial parts of the previous evening flashed through Ziluan’s mind. He couldn’t help looking between the two Jiang lords with unbearable shame rising up from the pit of his stomach. Yuyan seemed to notice his expression and scoffed, looking away with disdain. 

Ziluan felt as if he’d been struck. He really wanted to run, but he couldn’t well do that now, after so embarrassing himself by insisting he should come. He tried to keep his head down and stay unnoticeable on the journey.

The journey itself was fortunately uneventful, but for one small incident. When Linhan suggested they rest under some shade and told Ziluan to water the horses, Jiang Chenxi approached him with a horse’s body in between them. Ziluan recoiled as he noticed him, but he quickly lowered his gaze and nodded politely in greeting.

“Now I’m frightening? What a difference to last night, when you were so attentive,” said the soft-spoken boy.

Ziluan was surprised again, not only by how eloquently malicious he could be, but how controlled he was in contrast to Yuyan. While Yuyan was an open book, Ziluan couldn’t tell what this boy’s intentions might be at all.

Ziluan again nodded politely. “Please forgive my rude behavior,” he said, hoping he sounded as contrite as he was.

But Chenxi cast his gaze down as if disappointed. “Hm. I rather hoped I might be able to see you flustered again, like last night. It was quite a spectrum of emotion for a Lan. Quite amusing.”

Ziluan managed a halfhearted smile, but couldn’t hide his own shame. “I have much learning still to do.”

“And so?” Chenxi asked, seeming interested again. “What is a Lan disciple, clearly still quite devoted to their own clan, doing hanging onto my father’s coattails?”

“…Clan Leader Jiang didn’t mention it?” Ziluan asked with a small flicker of loneliness. And an odd prickling sensation in the root of his spine. He was on the verge of remembering something from last night, something very painful. But part of his mind was clearly trying to protect him by blocking it out.

Chenxi shook his head. “When I asked about you, he changed the subject.”

Ziluan’s loneliness at first deepened as he thought about how angry Yuyan must be with him, to even avoid the subject of him. But after a moment, he started to get a bad feeling. He raised a quizzical brow at the younger boy. “Young Master…you asked about me?”

With a slight smirk, Chenxi nodded.

“…why?”

“Can’t I be interested?” Chenxi asked with a slight glint of mischief in his eye.

“In what, Young Master?”

He chuckled. “Never mind. Perhaps it was cruel of me to make impure suggestions toward someone so innocent.”

Ziluan instinctively grasped both sets of reigns he was holding to his chest. The horses irritably pulled them back and unbalanced him slightly, but he barely noticed. Innocent? Impure? But that almost sounded like… His cheeks slowly grew red with embarrassment and disbelief as he realized what the teenager was implying. He blinked at him with open shock, totally at a loss for how to respond. Though of course this only ended up proving Chenxi’s point.

The younger man seemed amused by his reaction, but shook his head with a soft sigh. “The stories about the Lan being gullible are true too. Be at ease, Lan Ziluan. As I said, I fear my father just a little too much to ever threaten your honor in that way. But…thank you again for the amusement.”

With a smirk, the teenager disappeared behind the horse and could soon be seen joining his father to rest under a tree. Ziluan meanwhile had to spend some time meditating right where he stood before he was able to control the anger that this boy seemed very talented at provoking in him.

When they finally arrived in Carp Tower, Ziluan and the other myrmidons were made to wait outside as Jiang Yuyan met with Jin Rulan, although he brought Jiang Chenxi inside with him. No more than thirty minutes later, they emerged again. Even though they had only been apart for a short time, as they waited, Ziluan’s memory had more or less filled in the gaps from last night. When he saw Jiang Yuyan’s face coming out of the banquet hall, he felt like crying. He should never have come.

“We’re done. Let’s go,” Yuyan muttered, mostly to Linhan. 

He descended the steps first, leaving the others to follow. Ziluan took up the rear beside Zhuang Yan as before, but just as he started down the steps, something caught the corner of his eye. 

He only had time to recognize the small, fast-moving and cloudy black shape as traumatic. He felt his whole body flood with such fear he could barely breathe. Not of the creature itself, but of the memory of what he had lost so soon after seeing it. 

He didn’t know whether the danger really was after Jiang Yuyan. He didn’t stop to think. He forced all his spiritual energy into Suifeng. He flew down at high speed between the black cloud of energy and Yuyan, throwing his arms out to create as large a shield as possible. He was able to observe the creature’s beak start to drive into his chest.

“Zi…luan…”

The force of the bird’s strike thrust him backward into Jiang Yuyan. They had been almost at the top of the dizzyingly high steps to Carp Tower. For a moment, they seemed to hang frozen in the air. Then they started to fall, so fast the air was whipping Ziluan’s hair against his face. Until he heard Yuyan gasp beneath him, grasp him tightly and yell his name. Around that time, everything went dark.

He had a brief thought before losing consciousness that if they hit the ground, his effort would have only resulted in both of them dying instead of just one. But to his own surprise, that was not the end for him.

He was first aware of murmuring voices overhead.

“…one positive side is that with it stationary like this, we can study it at leisure-“

“Don’t you dare.” Yuyan’s voice. “This boy just went through hell, don’t talk about him like a tool.”

“…of course, Clan Leader Jiang. I meant no offense.”

A sigh. “Yuyan, calm down.” It was Jin Rulan. “It’s true, isn’t it? You of all people should realize how crucial it is that we use every lead to track down who is causing this.”

A scoff and a rustle of fabric of Yuyan turning away and beginning to pace. 

“What’s his condition, Doctor?” continued Jin Rulan.

A nearer and unfamiliar voice said, “Clan Leaders…I’m sorry.”

Yuyan’s pacing stopped. Ziluan was finally able to slowly open his eyes at this time. He blinked as he gazed up at the scene of two clan leaders, a doctor and multiple servants and myrmidons in a guest room at Carp Tower.

“What? Say it,” Yuyan growled.

“…to be honest, I’m not sure how his heart is still beating. It was crushed when the dire owl struck it. There is some spirit magic at work here which I clearly don’t understand, but…whoever is causing it, for whatever purpose, the fact is, it won’t last forever. As is the nature of spirit magic.”

A heavy pause. Ziluan’s eyes were slowly able to focus on Clan Leader Jiang. He was touched by the expression of worry and righteous anger on his face, so at first it didn’t occur to him that they were talking about him.

“…so? You’re saying if we find who’s causing it and kill them, that would kill him too?”

“Well yes, certainly, but what I mean to say is that this person obviously has malicious intent. If they want him alive, it can’t be for a good reason. And they may decide at any time to shift priorities, perhaps by hitting their true target of you, Clan Leader Jiang. So, I’m sorry…I don’t know why he’s still alive, only that it’s the will of an enemy that is keeping him so. A will that could change at any time.”

Ziluan closed his eyes again, letting out a soft, shaking breath. He cautiously raised a hand toward his own chest. While not as pronounced as it had been on Yang Zhao, he felt a dreadful shudder of fear as his fingers sank in slightly over the area where his heart should be. 

Yuyan seemed to have noticed he was awake. After a moment of clenching his jaw, he grunted, “There are too many people in here. Get out. You, send a message to Cangfeng Jun. Just tell him Lan Ziluan is hurt and he needs to come here, nothing else.”

Ziluan shook his head slightly. “Please don’t tell my father,” he murmured.

Yuyan looked down at him with disbelief and anger. “What is wrong with you? It won’t save him not to know. You’ll just be suffering alone, until he loses you without warning, do you understand?”

Ziluan had to control the urge to cry, stricken with guilt at how much his father had already had to go through. He did understand, he knew it wasn’t rational, but he couldn’t bear for his father to know about this. 

“Please don’t tell him,” he whispered.

He did not expect Yuyan to listen to him. A proud man who was also a father himself. But he was shocked when, as the room cleared of everyone but Yuyan, Jin Rulan and Jiang Chenxi, Yuyan took the doctor’s place and sat beside him on the bed. 

“I may be a poor substitute, but at least you won’t have to be alone,” Yuyan murmured with surprising softness. “So don’t make that face.”

Ziluan felt himself smiling against his own will. He couldn’t help it. He was happy. Clan Leader Jiang was so close to him, comforting him. He couldn’t deny it anymore. This feeling surging through his whole body, making him irrational and making his whole happiness rise and fall like a leaf on the wind in accordance with Jiang Yuyan’s moods, was love. He almost thought nearly dying was worth it, if he could receive such gentle attention from him. If only briefly.

Though there was some pain, it was not nearly as much as it should have been. Ziluan was, with difficulty, able to pull himself up to a sitting position. Though it broke his heart, he knew his guilt would not allow him to take advantage of this circumstance. To Yuyan’s unbearably sweet suggestion, he merely shook his head.

“I can’t allow such kindness,” he said softly.

“Ah?” Yuyan snarled at being defied. “What do you mean ‘can’t allow’? Are you getting above your station again?”

Rather than argue further, he turned instead to Clan Leader Jin. Around his father’s age but actually looking it, though dignified and tastefully dressed, Jin Rulan looked down at Ziluan with somehow equal parts suspicion and pity. 

“You agree, don’t you, Clan Leader Jin?” Ziluan asked him. “Clan Leader Jiang is clearly the target. I am now a puppet kept alive by the enemy that is targeting him. I can’t be near him.”

Jin Rulan closed his eyes with a soft sigh. But Yuyan’s anger had returned in the meantime.

“That’s ridiculous logic,” Yuyan pronounced harshly. “If it’s aiming for me, I have as much right as anyone to fight it. And even if a puppet of the enemy were all you are, I’d still keep you close for no other reason than that.”

“Yuyan…you’re not making sense,” said Jin Rulan. “If you let others examine him-“

“He’s my myrmidon and my responsibility,” Yuyan roared, getting to his feet and towering over his older cousin. “The only one with more authority over him is his father. Since he’s not here, I will do what I would want any other clan leader to do for my own son.”

“…then you may want to keep better tabs on your ‘responsibility.’”

That was the last thing Ziluan was able to pick up before Suifeng carried him out toward the wilderness outside Carp Tower. Well, that and one more enraged shout of Jiang Yuyan.

“Lan Ziluan!!!”

It hurt his heart much worse to leave the world he had known, and the man he was now certain he loved, than it had to feel a dire owl pierce through it. But he couldn’t put Jiang Yuyan, or anyone else, in danger. Now that he himself held the key to finding this source of evil will toward Yuyan, the only logical thing to do was to track it down.


	7. Tigress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In searching after the master of the dire owl, Ziluan receives help from two unexpected allies, including one claiming to be a Jiang marriage candidate. But when they face an even worse danger, and one of them is gravely injured, someone appears from the shadows to help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tang-jie" 堂姐 = older female cousin via father's family.

Without any other clues to go by, Ziluan started his search for the enemy by heading toward the last place the dire owl had been seen. He prepared himself for the intense pain he would feel going back there. 

He glided over the high plains on Suifeng, and even though he was able to hold back the urge to stop inside the Cloud Recesses themselves, could not help setting down softly when he reached his grandfathers’ cabin. 

Some of Wei Wuxian’s vegetables were trying to hang on, but most had succumbed to the cold. Seeing this place, which had been a source of warmth and joy as long as he could remember, now reduced to cold and monochrome silence was even more painful than he thought it would be. At the same time, he felt braver than he thought he would be at facing it. He knew somehow that was thanks to Jiang Yuyan.

He felt words welling up inside him, words left unsaid. But he couldn’t voice them. After standing for far too long outside their cabin without moving, he simply took flight again, passing over their land toward the wilder area he did not know well.

Without a direction at this point, he dropped to the ground and continued on foot, examining the area for signs of disturbance. His hand kept drifting up toward his chest, nervously feeling the depression in its center and the swirling energy there. But so far, despite numerous attempts, he was unable to use that energy to discern any clues about the location of its master. 

The forest thinned out as he came upon a high hill overlooking a frozen valley, cast into silvery shadows by the moonlight. There was no sign of human activity inside it. He sighed softly and, without any other ideas, sat down on the hard earth and produced his guqin. 

He put his fingers to the strings and played Inquiry into the night, hoping to ask the spirits for clues about the dire owl. The notes rang out only in the air closest to him, then fell flatly upon the cold earth, snow and motionless needles of the evergreens. But no matter how many times he called, no spirits responded. Indeed, it could be that no one had ever lived in this place, so there simply were no spirits nearby. And if there were another reason? What would make spirits go silent?

He was too involved in the thought for too long, and did not notice the danger until there was very little he could do about it. 

Snap.

Something about the sound of the twig snapping behind him alerted him that a heavy foot had fallen on it. A padded foot. The kind that would made no sound on rock and snow. And not a human one.

Fear filled up his throat as he realized the sound was already too near for him to be able to jump or run far enough to have time to draw Suifeng. Any move he made would be his last before the huge predator struck. Be still, his instinct told him. Be still and think of something clever. 

He couldn’t believe how foolish he had been to forget why people didn’t go into the wilds north of Gusu. Apart from the difficulty of growing food and the severe weather, there resided here the most fearsome natural predator known to humanity. The five hundred pound striped cats that haunted local wood-cutters’ nightmares. The Amur tiger.

To be fair, in a head-on fight, no mortal animal could hope to face a cultivator. But this was hardly head-on. He had wandered right into her territory, and indeed had already fallen into her trap. 

But really, what was there to do? He had heard some stories of tigers stalking crouched farmers, perhaps thinking them boars or deer, and losing interest when they stood. If he stood slowly, it might not engage the tiger’s prey instinct. It was a gamble. His only chance would be if this were opportunistic hunting. If this animal were defending cubs, he thought, he was already dead. 

He took a breath in and slowly began shifting his weight in order to get at least one foot ready to stand. But just as he engaged his legs to begin to stand, there was a flurry of movement behind him. He prepared to feel his body crushed by a weight four times his own and neck snapped by finger-length teeth.

THUNK!

He whirled at the sound of an arrow hitting the earth behind him, just in time to see the terrifying sight of the tiger partially reared back away from the arrow. The animal hissed at the one who had fired the shot, a sound disturbingly large and echoing compared to the normal sound of a cat. But moments later the creature backed away cautiously, then turned tail to find at least some cover in the forest. Once out of sight, it made no sound, and was again a perfect predator lying in wait of easier prey. 

A pair of feet landed softly nearby: the archer. Ziluan couldn’t quite believe who it was at first. The beautiful and talented Jin Lianyi, practically glowing golden in the bright moonlight and showing sparks-amidst-snow to particular advantage, had strung another arrow but already seemed disappointed to have lost her target. She graced Ziluan with the most condescending of glances, as if the necessity of saving him was somehow in itself insulting.

Ziluan nevertheless smiled gratefully, stood and offered a bow. “Lady Jin. This is unexpected. Many thanks for your timely attack.”

She closed her eyes with a sigh. “A favor.”

“Hm? Have I earned such a favor from you?” Ziluan asked curiously, trying not to smile too widely as he thought their previous interaction had not come out favorably for Jin Lianyi.

“Definitely not for you, Lord Cut-Sleeve,” she informed him with confidence.

Ziluan raised his eyebrows and stifled a chuckle at having received yet another interesting nickname.

Another set of feet touched down softly nearby. Ziluan’s heart fluttered as he was once again deceived by moonlight and saw the father in the son. He tried to hide his disappointment as he recognized the rose-colored clothing rather than purple. 

“Young Master Jiang…what on earth are you doing in such a place, and at this hour?” Ziluan asked, though trying to keep his tone polite. “And…what exactly is this company?” he asked, looking curiously toward Jin Lianyi.

Chenxi smirked. “Marriage candidate.”

“Eh?!” Ziluan made an undignified noise. He couldn’t help himself.

Jin Lianyi sighed again. “Jiang Jian. Do not put things in a way that is purposefully misleading.”

“Ah. Of course. Forgive me, Lady Jin,” said Chenxi, though there was definitely a hint of insincerity in his apology. He had clearly intended the misunderstanding. “Not mine. But my father’s. Therefore we have a shared interest in your welfare, Lan Ziluan.”

Ziluan wasn’t entirely following, still quite stricken by the idea that Jiang Yuyan’s marriage candidate – a beautiful and powerful senior cultivator – was standing right beside him. 

“Um…I’m sorry, how so?” he muttered, once he had his wits about him.

While Chenxi merely smirked in response, Jin Lianyi’s anger gradually surfaced as she turned her gaze on Ziluan. She was so tall and imposing, he remarked absently. Refined and noble. Though perhaps outstripping Yuyan in looks, she would suit him very well standing side by side. 

“Believe me, Lan Ziluan,” she said bitterly. “Jiang Yuyan’s obsession with you is as much a mystery to all of us as it seems to be to you.”

Obsession? Ziluan couldn’t imagine what she meant by that. He blinked at her in confused silence.

“Now, now, Lady Jin,” Chenxi politely hid a chuckle behind his sleeve. “There’s no need to bully him. So? What now, Young Master Lan? We could take you back to my father, where I would personally argue your duty lies. Or back to the Cloud Recesses, where your own family would most likely prefer you go. Or…perhaps you have a third option in mind?”

Ziluan closed his eyes sadly. It ached how much he would rather return to either of those places than do what he had to do now. 

He tried hesitantly to smile as he said softly, “I can’t…I can’t be around anyone until I find the master of this evil.” He gingerly touched as much of his chest as he could bear. “I fear it isn’t only keeping me alive. If it can control me, then I am a danger to anyone with the surname ‘Jiang.’ Thank you for your concern, Young Master, but please go back.” 

Jin Lianyi reached up to replace the arrow in her quiver and shouldered her bow. She cast a dubious look toward Chenxi. “He makes a good point, Young Master Jiang.” 

Especially given that she had just called him by his given name, the use of his title was obviously facetious. For the first time since he had met him, Chenxi showed an open expression of displeasure. He softened it with a bitter smile. 

“Getting cold feet after coming all this way?” Chenxi asked softly. “Many things could be said about the Jin sect, but I wouldn’t have thought cowardice was one of them.”

Though her jaw briefly tightened, she calmly replied, “I wasn't referring to myself. It’s true. He’s probably a danger to anyone with the surname ‘Jiang.’ Especially anyone who looks exactly like Jiang Yuyan. Neither of those apply to me, so of course I’m still going with him.”

“Lady Jin-“ Ziluan tried to interrupt at her bold assumption that he even wanted her help.

“But this little Young Master is neither possessed by a owl nor an experienced cultivator. Since he’ll only make himself a burden or get himself killed, indeed he ought to run home,” Jin Lianyi said with an air of sophisticated malice.

“I think it would take a lot more effort to stop me than simply to keep half an eye on me," Chenxi said, barely controlling a clear surge of anger. "I may be inexperienced, but I assure you my cultivation is comparable with either of you.”

Unfortunately both Jin Lianyi and Lan Ziluan were unable to cover their doubt at this statement. Jiang Chenxi’s pride did seem injured by their reaction, but he also seemed unlikely to back down. 

“I…appreciate your concern, but you should both go back,” Ziluan said softly, trying to make peace. “The less people that get involved, the be-“

“And? After three days you still haven’t found any leads?” Jin Lianyi interrupted coldly.

In embarrassment, Ziluan reluctantly shook his head.

“So I presume you only came here because this is where the creature was last spotted.” Chenxi nodded to himself, but in looking around the wilderness curiously, he clearly pointed out how unlikely it was to find anything out here. “There are worse ideas. But now that you’re here, still nothing?”

An embarrassed nod.

“That was Inquiry you were playing when we arrived, wasn’t it?”

“Yes…”

Jin Lianyi unhesitatingly reached into her sleeve and produced a Compass of Evil, flicking it open. The device clicked softly as she pointed it slowly in a wide circle around herself. She stopped as the needle swung around and began to point resolutely to the other side of the frozen valley. She looked toward the area doubtfully.

“There is a reaction,” she said. “But there are also issues.”

“…Lady Jin?” Ziluan asked curiously.

She sighed, glancing down at the compass again to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. She closed it and dropped it back inside her sleeve. “First, all of us have been expending spiritual energy just to get here.”

Ziluan and Chenxi exchanged a glance, but had to admit that that was the price of traveling long distances by riding the sword. 

“We’re not at our best, chasing an unknown danger. And the only practical way to cross this terrain is to keep draining ourselves this way. Lan Ziluan may have grown up here, but personally I have no experience traveling in deep snow. The sword is the only way. And if we’re attacked? If we need to escape? We would have to be very lucky to have enough spiritual energy left even to get us back to the Cloud Recesses.”

“Granted…but what other option is there?” Chenxi asked.

“I’m not finished,” she said, raising a dubious eyebrow. “Our own condition is the biggest problem. But there are also two more things that are concerning. First, the only reason we think the enemy might be here is that the owl was spotted in the area. That itself could have been a ruse.”

“…true…” Ziluan admitted.

“And then there’s the evil reaction despite a lack of souls in the area. What does that suggest to you?”

Ziluan swallowed as her words put the pieces together in his mind. “…a soul-snatching demon.”

“Hm,” she pronounced, flicking her sleeve in irritation as she put her hands behind her back. 

“These are good points, but again, what is there to do?” Chenxi inquired, smirking as if he found the whole situation quite amusing. “We have no other leads, no other method of transport, and if we call for assistance, I fear Lan Ziluan will run off on his own again.”

“…we could at least conserve our energy tonight and start again tomorrow,” Ziluan murmured softly. 

“Sleeping rough?” Jin Lianyi asked with noticeable alarm at the idea.

Ziluan shook his head. Though it made him feel much colder throughout his body than he had by sitting on the frozen ground, he hesitantly led them back to his grandfathers’ cabin to rest there for the night. 

The door was still broken from when he kicked it that day, so they were able to get inside without trouble. Even though it was cold inside, most things seemed undisturbed by either animals or other people. Ziluan told the other two to make themselves comfortable while he got some firewood from the shed. 

He was conscious of their gazes as he returned with the firewood, placed it in the fireplace and lit it with a small incantation. They both should be aware of who his grandfathers were, and of the fact that he was not actually related to them. And of course by now everyone knew that they were gone. It hurt that he had to have his most intimate grief on display in such a way.

But despite what he felt was a reasonable expectation of sensitivity on the topic, Jin Lianyi took in a breath at one point as if she had just remembered something. Then she asked him about it out of the blue. 

“That’s right. Now that I think about it, you’re my father’s cousin, aren’t you? A bit odd, but still a relation I suppose. You can call me 'tang-jie' if you like.”

Ziluan flinched. He tried but wasn’t sure he managed a polite smile in reply, since he knew he would be unable to speak on that topic.

“Mm,” Chenxi agreed with interest. “Roughly the same relation between you and my father, now that you mention it.”

Jin Lianyi stiffened and glanced toward Chenxi with strictly controlled anger, but did not respond at first. Eventually she supplied, “It’s a matrilineal relation. Our surnames are different.”

Chenxi laughed. “Biology doesn’t take much note of surnames.”

“And it wouldn’t if we were full cousins either,” Lianyi snapped, clearly having been struck on a sore point. “In the past, people married cousins all the time. There’s no…risk, like you’re implying.”

Chenxi nodded to himself, but to Ziluan’s eye he seemed delighted. “I admit, I don’t have much experience of the world. But as far as I see it, if you find yourself towing the line of a rule like that, it means you’re already probably doing something wrong.”

Despite her clear anger at the topic, Jin Lianyi muttered intently to him, “You agreed to help. That means you must be at least partly in favor of my intentions toward Jiang Yuyan.”

Ziluan felt his insides grow cold again at her words. It occurred to him, once again, that not only would they make a beautiful couple, but that there was no area in which he was a favorable partner over Jin Lianyi. He shook himself to banish the thought, reminding himself how Yuyan had reacted to the idea of cut-sleeves. It didn’t matter how good Ziluan was. Yuyan would never choose him.

“Hm? Not particularly,” Chenxi answered. “Though to be honest, that part doesn’t really concern me. I said we had a mutual interest in Lan Ziluan’s welfare, that’s all.”

Lianyi’s eyes narrowed toward him. “Meaning what?”

He smiled warmly to her, though the tension in the air between them was obvious. “Whatever you like. All I mean to say is that your intentions toward my father are your business, and his. But if I were you, I wouldn’t rely on my support in the matter.”

“Brat,” Jin Lianyi grumbled under her breath.

Chenxi merely chuckled in response. Apparently he took pleasure from irritating everyone, not just Lan Ziluan. 

“I’ll see if there’s any food left,” Ziluan murmured. 

He was able to find a gourd that had been kept from rot by the cold, and some uncooked millet. He prepared a pot and filled it with snow, which he set to melt over the fire. He peeled and cut the gourd into small pieces, dropping it into the pot along with the millet. They were all hungry enough that the rather bland flavor wasn’t off-putting, and all ate silently.

They had all been sitting on the small seats at the dining table where Ziluan so often had tea and talked with his grandfathers, but as they finished eating, Jin Lianyi glanced toward the bed. 

“It’s barely large enough for two people,” she observed.

“You two take the bed,” Ziluan murmured. “I couldn’t touch it if I wanted to.”

They both watched him with pity as they realized what he meant. It was Chenxi who confirmed softly, “So that was where...”

Ziluan smiled but didn’t answer. “Part of the Lan sect training involves learning how to sleep while seated. Even standing, actually, if necessary. If you both insist on joining me tomorrow, then please take this chance to rest well.”

Lianyi nodded and rose in order to do so, although with a small glance of displeasure toward Chenxi as she considered having to share a small bed with him. Chenxi remained at the table a little longer, as if he were contemplating saying something to Ziluan. But in the end, he smiled to cover whatever thought he had been having just now, and joined the reluctant Jin Lianyi in bed.

Even though they weren’t exactly the company he wished, and in fact he would rather not be here at all, it felt good that there were people in this cabin again. It shouldn’t be left empty after all, he thought. He rested his back against Hanguang Jun’s wall of books and closed his eyes, against his will dreaming of many happy memories he had here.

The next morning, after Ziluan cleaned up a little, they followed Jin Lianyi’s compass further into the wilderness, chasing the evil it sensed. Even though it should be warmer in the day, the winter air in the mountains seem to bite even more sharply in the morning.

“Here,” Lianyi said, touching down at the top of a ridge. Ziluan and Chenxi set down behind her. “Catch your breath here at least. Stay alert. Whatever it is, it’s close.”

They silently approached the source of the energy on foot. Even before they arrived at its source, all three felt the air grow foul and Lianyi covered her nose with her sleeve. 

“Dead animals?” she asked, coughing.

Ziluan swallowed nervously, though the scent was already making him nauseous. Not just the scent, he could feel foul energy all around. When he glanced toward Chenxi, the teenager looked to be in an even worse state, growing paler as they went. Whatever they found here, he thought, they must not stay long. The atmosphere would be harmful to their spirits over time.

They came upon a small shed, from which evil aura was palpably emanating. Jin Lianyi, though still shielding her face with her sleeve, said doubtfully, “Not big enough for someone to live here, even if they wanted to. This must be a secondary location.”

Ziluan shook his head. “This is certainly where their cultivation has taken place. Though…I agree it seems too small for even one person to live. That, and…”

“There are…things inside…” Chenxi added tremulously, finally seeming to have run out of amusement with the whole situation. 

They all instinctively held back from approaching closer as they were forced to come to terms with what they might find. 

“The scent of dead animals…a pervading foul aura…a lack of souls in the area…” Ziluan swallowed as he thought aloud. “Someone has been raising monsters.”

Lianyi huffed in disgust, but fixed her gaze on the shed as if looking at a speck of dust on an otherwise pristine surface. “We won’t learn anything without going inside,” she said, finally taking a step closer.

“Wait…this isn’t right,” Ziluan muttered, getting a terrible feeling he was missing something. The incident with tiger from yesterday flashed through his mind, that feeling of the twig snapping at his back. 

“These are the actions of a powerful cultivator,” he murmured aloud as Jin Lianyi drew her sword and continued cautiously forward. “Someone able to mount three attacks on one of the four great clans without leaving a single shred of evidence. Someone who should have the power to kill me at any time. We haven’t disguised our presence at all on the way here. Could it be...do they want us here…?”

Jin Lianyi either wasn’t listening or didn’t take his point, and placed a hand upon the wooden bolt on the door. The moment she touched it, a flash of black sliced through the air in front of her. She had no time to raise her sword. 

Lianyi’s blood flew high into the air in the wake of the small but deadly bird that had attacked her. She stumbled backward, clinging to her head as blood poured freely between her fingers. 

“Lady Jin!” Chenxi cried in panic. 

The bird whirled around and whistled through the air as it flew fast as an arrow back toward Lianyi again. Ziluan let Suifeng free to meet it in the air as he helped Lianyi to the ground. He was relieved to see that though she appeared in horrible pain, and might be missing an eye, the wound was not fatal. 

Though Suifeng was able to hold off the bird for a few moments, one after another, three more dire birds flew out of holes in the shed and hovered over the three cultivators in swirling black clouds. Ziluan swallowed in fear, disbelieving that he had made the same mistake twice in two days. And worse, there was no one to come to the rescue this time. 

And then, the low, kind voice of a savior.

“…A-Jian…?”

With this small utterance, despair turned to joy in his heart. Could it be? Had Yuyan come to save them?


	8. Cypress Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Managing to escape the immediate danger, the group returns to Yunmeng to face Jiang Yuyan's reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Chenxi’s uncle (jiujiu, 舅舅), Yuyan’s younger brother-in-law, is Hua Baizhou 华柏舟, given name Hua Sui 华邃.  
> \- He refers to Yuyan as “jiezhang 姐丈,” (older sister’s husband).  
> \- (jiujiu 舅舅 "mother's brother" is distinct from Yuyan's sword Jiujiu 赳赳 in tone. "Uncle" = 4th, 5th, "Valiant" = 1st, 1st)

“…A-Jian…?”

Ziluan’s head whirled toward the speaker, who he thought must be the only man to call Jiang Chenxi by an endearment like that. His heart sank as he saw, once again, wild rose colors rather than purple.

An unfamiliar cultivator, dressed in Hua colors, touched down behind them. He had a dark, hawk-like countenance and left most of his hair loose in his face and over his shoulders with only a simple ribbon in his bun. His sad eyes were noticeable even so. There was something enchanting about him, Ziluan thought.

“Jiujiu!” Chenxi gasped.

As soon as he noticed the danger, the stranger gasped and quickly drew a talisman in the air just as two of the birds came for him. The first collided with the talisman and was crushed, but the second flew through as it weakened, ducking past his raised sword and cutting across his shoulder. As the bird swung around for another strike, he quickly looked up at them.

“A ward! Can anyone here make one quickly?!”

Despite a vein in her neck throbbing from obvious agony, Jin Lianyi broke free of Ziluan’s arm around her and growled, “Yes. Give me…thirty seconds.”

Ziluan nodded and stood over her, while the new cultivator stood protectively in front of Jiang Chenxi. Though trembling and with blood still dripping down her face, Lianyi raised her sword, focused spiritual energy inside it, then set it free to draw a large magic circle in the dirt in the center of their group. 

In the meantime, Ziluan produced his guqin and took a breath in to soothe his mind, in spite of the whistling sound he could clearly hear of a bird approaching his head. He strummed just a few notes. 

In truth, there was a reason Lan Ziluan often refrained from using his guqin in front of others. His spiritual energy, which he discovered one could not change by wishing, was not Lan blue but Jin gold. It cast a brief, warm light over the area, slowing the flight of the birds. He still had to duck his head slightly to avoid the path of the one heading toward him, but kept up his playing for as long as his concentration and energy could stand, hoping to make them easier targets for the others to avoid.

Thirty seconds, as it turned out, could be an exhaustingly long time when one’s life was in danger. Ziluan felt his concentration slipping, and had already been clipped by talons twice, by the time Lianyi shouted that the ward was finished. 

She placed her fingertips to her forehead to gather spiritual energy, then directed it down into the magic circle. Gold light flashed all around them and made a pattern in the air above, slowly rotating over their heads. The birds seemed to realize they would be hurt if they tried to enter the space and merely hovered in swirling black clouds over it. Finally, the cultivators let out a breath of relief. 

Jin Lianyi slumped forward and Ziluan knelt to catch her. “Lady Jin…you must not fall asleep,” he said, though pitied how much pain and exhaustion she must be feeling now.

She sighed in irritation. “I know. I just relaxed too much for a moment. I’m fine.”

He suspected that was not exactly true, but there was nothing to be done now. Guilt shuddered through him as he realized he had now risked the lives of three people in his ill-conceived attempt at solving this mystery by himself. He produced a vial of blood-stopping powder from his robes and gingerly turned Lianyi’s face toward him. 

“This will sting,” he murmured.

She nodded slightly, closing her good eye. “Do it.”

He sprinkled the powder over her still-bleeding wound. She gritted her teeth and a strangled noise rose from her throat, but to her credit she barely moved. His heart thrummed inside his chest against his will as he was forced to admit, this Jin Lianyi was a formidable cultivator and an incredibly strong person. Even weakened like this, he felt no match for her.

Ziluan reached over to her sword, now stuck in the ground in front of her, and cut the edge of his sleeve on it. From the cut, he tore off a few long strips of the purple fabric. 

While trying to avoid jarring the wound too much, he wrapped the strips around her head, tight enough to put slight pressure on the wound and encourage it to close. 

“There,” he said, attempting an encouraging smile. “Ah. As expected, Jiang colors seem to suit you very well, Lady Jin.”

Though he intended it as merely a light comment to make her feel better – and unintentionally ended up hurting himself just by saying the words out loud – she just looked listlessly down at the ground. 

“Lan Ziluan,” she said, with ever-present pride seemingly crestfallen. “Did you get a look at my eye just now?”

His skin ached in sympathy as he glanced at the wound, though now covered. “Just…a glance,” he said softly.

“…is it still there?” she muttered.

“I…think so…” he said hesitantly, though he refrained from speculating on whether it would still be capable of sight once it healed from the talon that had raked through it.

But she didn’t seem reassured. She watched the earth in front of her silently for several long moments. Then she let out a soft scoff. “A half-blind cultivator…and a woman with a scar on her face…a fine marriage candidate.”

To Ziluan’s surprise, Chenxi approached, kneeling down in front of her. He cautiously raised a hand to her chin to tilt her face up and get a better look at the visible parts of the wound. 

“There’s still an outline. Your eye is still whole at least, and eyes heal well if treated quickly,” he said, with a gentleness his voice had not had until now. He sighed softly. “As far as scars…my father may be hard to please in many ways, but I know he admires strength more than anything. And I can promise, he won’t forget what you did to help me today. Not to mention Lan Ziluan, who you hate.”

“Do you?” Ziluan actually recoiled in surprise before he could stop himself. He thought she perhaps didn’t much care for him, or even resented him, but hate was awfully strong.

Jin Lianyi at least didn’t object to anything Chenxi said, and her expression did seem to soften somewhat, but it was clear this injury was no light blow to her ego.

“A-Jian…” said the stranger softly, making his presence noticeable at last, grasping Jiang Chenxi by the shoulders to help him up. “You’re not hurt, are you? What were you thinking, coming out here?”

“Jiujiu…” Chenxi murmured, looking his age at last as he lowered his gaze remorsefully. “How did you know we were here?”

“Clan Leader Jiang has half the cultivation world out looking for you. You can’t just disappear like that. He’s a real demon right now, even more than usual,” the cultivator grumbled bitterly. “Though A-Jie was even worse. She left a mark in his face when she slapped him.”

Chenxi made a noise of anguish with both hands over his face. “Why would he tell her?”

“I don’t think he meant to,” said the cultivator absently, as if it didn’t concern him. “He came to Yingchuan looking for you and, well…you know he can’t lie to her.”

Ziluan couldn’t help smiling a little at how attentive Jiang Yuyan was, and how protective Hua Airong, toward their son, who can’t have been missing for more than a couple of days. 

“Ah…Jiujiu,” Chenxi said, realizing he was being rude. “This is Lady Jin, Jin Lianyi, Jin Ye. And Lan Ziluan,” Chenxi halfheartedly added at least Ziluan’s courtesy name, unconsciously confirming a suspicion Ziluan had had since last night, causing Ziluan’s smile to widen a little unbeknownst to himself. “Lady Jin, this is my mother’s younger brother, Hua Sui, courtesy name Baizhou.”

Though he seemed slightly uncomfortable becoming the center of attention, Hua Baizhou clasped his hands and bowed politely toward Jin Lianyi, who flicked a glance his way but seemed unable or unwilling to manage more. The dark-eyed cultivator then turned somewhat suspiciously toward Ziluan, but when Ziluan smiled and bowed, he at least repeated the gesture. Understandable, Ziluan thought. Likely this person was worried about his nephew getting mixed up in something dangerous. 

“Well,” Ziluan said brightly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Since we’re all acquainted, we should probably not waste time in thinking of a solution to our problem.” He pointed upward toward the hovering wisps of smoke still waiting to attack. 

Hua Baizhou nodded as Chenxi folded his arms in thought. But after a few moment of thought, all still remained silent. Jin Lianyi eventually sighed.

“Just to be clear, someone is probably going to have to carry me out of here once this circle is broken,” she muttered, clearly still understandably downfallen about her eye.

Ziluan had been planning to anyway, and started to answer that he would, when someone was ahead of him. 

“I can,” Chenxi said. 

Ziluan watched him with interest, trying to keep the smile from tugging at his lips. As he said it, the teenager had been pointedly looking away from Jin Lianyi at the birds. But Ziluan was quite certain it wasn’t just the cold wind reddening Chenxi’s cheeks.

“Ah,” Ziluan said suddenly. “A sled.”

All three others stared at him without a reaction. “Excuse me?” Chenxi clarified finally.

“We are on a ridge. Fortunately the edge in the direction we want to go is sheer and the snow is fresh. If we cut down a tree, and use at least two swords to guide it and prevent it from turning over, it should be quite an enjoyable ride down. Safe,” he corrected himself, though his smile likely gave him away.

“Are you insane?” Chenxi asked him, not hyperbole but matter-of-factly.

“You could also call it ‘unconventional wisdom,’” Ziluan replied, though in fact quite pleased with himself.

Jin Lianyi wasn’t convinced. “Assuming the birds aren’t fast enough to follow a free-fall…and I think they are…then what? They’d easily catch up to us at the bottom.”

Ziluan’s smile didn’t fade. “I can explain later, but I have reasons to think they will not. Unless you have another idea, Lady Jin?”

She sighed loudly, though afterwards flinched in pain. “I’ve come this far,” she grumbled reluctantly. “Might as well be ridiculous from start to finish.”

The other two seemed none too pleased by the idea, but neither was able to produce another either. So Hua Baizhou and Lan Ziluan chopped down the nearest tree inside the ward, pushing it up to the edge of the ridge. Chenxi helped Jin Lianyi to sit securely on the top end of the trunk, holding on to branches. 

“Young Master Jiang,” Ziluan said. “Do you think you can hold onto Lady Jin while using your sword to guide the tree?”

Chenxi smiled bitterly at him. “Worry about yourself, Ziluan.”

“And Young Master Hua, you will guide the other side?” Ziluan confirmed, politely ignoring Chenxi’s barb. 

Baizhou nodded, and for a moment Ziluan thought he looked quite in awe of him. Somehow the intensity of this man’s gaze, though distantly sad, made his heart flutter a little. Ziluan cleared his throat and faced the other way, seating himself at the end of the log behind Baizhou. 

“I will play for as long as I can in order to slow them as the ward falls,” Ziluan said. “Ready?”

Jin Lianyi was having trouble keeping herself upright and needed Chenxi’s help, but the other two nodded. It was a good thing they were indeed ready, as Lianyi’s concentration – and the ward – began to fade. Ziluan began playing before they even fell. At the same time, he and Baizhou slowly pushed off the edge with their feet. 

The ward fell. The tree began to tip sickeningly downward. Ziluan felt lucky to have a job to do facing the other direction, otherwise he was sure he would feel quite dizzy at the sight the others were no doubt trapped into staring at right now. 

“AhhhhhhAAAAAAH!” they all cried as the tree began to pick up speed, air, snow and bits of debris whizzing past them in a dizzying cacophony.

Ziluan continued playing, but only moments after they began to fall, true to his prediction, the birds only hovered nearby their shed for a time before disappearing from view, back where they had come from. He smirked to himself, though he only had a moment to be pleased before he remembered they had hardly found any clues here either. Of course, then it occurred to him there were more immediate concerns.

He cautiously attempted to turn around, only to have his own hair slapped in his face repeatedly by the wind. He peeled it from his face in order to crane around and see the terrifying sight of them rocketing down the mountain, with Jiang Chenxi and Hua Baizhou’s swords, each stuck on opposite sides of the trunk, only just managing to keep them upright.

While there were a few more seconds of terror, they rumbled gradually to a halt as the slope leveled off, and the tree began to encounter smaller scrub bushes, which it flattened but still helped it to slow. Once they finally came to a stop, all instinctively dismounted the log in order to crumple to the snowy earth, grateful to be in one piece. No one spoke for quite a while, and their hot breath made pillars of steam in the still-early light.

In the end, Ziluan’s guilt over the whole incident forced him to realize that the only thing he could accomplish on his own was dying even sooner than this owl master intended. So when Hua Baizhou insisted on making it his responsibility to get them all back to Jiang Yuyan safely, he humbly agreed.

Except Jin Lianyi, the other three still had enough remaining spiritual energy to travel by sword into more temperate climate, where they continued on foot. By now exhaustion was wearing on Jiang Chenxi too, and he eventually allowed his uncle to shoulder his weight, while Ziluan helped Jin Lianyi. The two downed members got some rest as soon as they reached the boat portion of the journey, sleeping quite sweetly curled up together in the bottom of the boat, though neither was aware of it at the time.

With the warm, spiced air, the smell of reeds and the soft lapping of water against wood, Ziluan was forced to remember the two nearly silent journeys he had taken with Jiang Yuyan.

His heart pounded at the thought of seeing him again, in spite of his worry. He couldn’t forget Lianyi’s words yesterday, saying Yuyan was “obsessed” with him. That couldn’t mean what he thought it did. Still, even the idea Yuyan had any interest in him, as opposed to simple dislike, was a happy thought. And then, he remembered those impossibly kind words; he had offered to keep Ziluan company during this danger and uncertainty. He closed his eyes in silent gratitude for having lived to experience that moment.

When they were nearly at Lotus Pier, Ziluan noticed Hua Baizhou’s gaze on him. He smiled with a curious look. “Young Master Hua. Is there something…?”

Baizhou hesitantly looked away, shaking his head. “I…” he murmured softly, as if someone was forcing him. “…envy you. That’s all.”

Ziluan blinked back at him in confusion. “Have we met before?”

The dark-eyed man shook his head, and when he lowered it, his bangs almost fully concealed his face. 

“Then…?”

“I heard…” Baizhou murmured, a slight tremor in his voice. He really didn’t seem to want to talk about it, and only reluctantly did because the other two were unconscious. “…of a cultivator in the Gusu Lan sect. Who didn’t mind being called a cut-sleeve.”

Again, as when he had felt his gaze at the top of the mountain, Ziluan’s heart fluttered noticeably. He was so flustered, and somewhat flattered, he couldn’t even manage a smile. No one else had ever revealed their being a cut-sleeve to him before. He wasn’t misreading, was he?

Baizhou turned slightly toward him, his dark eyes flickering nervously and a slight flush on his cheeks. There was longing in his eyes as he briefly looked toward Ziluan. Again, Ziluan was unable to control the increase in his heart rate. His innocence, too, was extremely charming. No, he was not mistaken. 

Soon, though, the shy cultivator turned away again. “It’s admirable. Definitely…not easy.”

Ziluan finally managed a soft smile. “Among the Lan sect’s many precepts, this one is my favorite: ‘love and respect yourself.’ There are no conditions on that simple command. There is no exception. I think of it often when it seems the outside world would rather I did not.”

Though he did seem quite touched, apparently Hua Baizhou had reached the limit of the embarrassment he was able to take, and couldn’t look Ziluan in the eye after that. 

They surprised a pair of Jiang myrmidons when their boat approached the docks at Lotus Pier, and one of them took off at a run toward wherever Clan Leader Jiang was. Just as their boat reached the dock, the clan leader came fluttering down from the sky on Jiujiu. 

“A-Jian!” he shouted. 

Though he had been fully asleep seconds before, Jiang Chenxi bolted upright. He blinked around in confusion for a moment before he glanced up and saw the lake at Lotus Pier, and then his father in the sky. He sighed. 

“Are you all right?” Yuyan demanded as he landed at the dock over them. 

“I am, but I’m afraid Lady Jin is not,” he said, gathering her arm over his shoulder and half carrying her onto the dock. 

“Lady Jin? Jin Lianyi?!” Yuyan barked. “What did you do to her?!”

To give Chenxi a chance to get her quickly to the Jiang doctor without Yuyan’s obstruction, Ziluan stepped onto the dock and bowed deeply. “Clan Leader Jiang,” he said quietly. “Lady Jin’s injury was a result of my negligence and short-sightedness. I am deeply sorry.”

Bowed as he was, Ziluan could not see Yuyan’s face. But the silence continued until long after he could no longer explain it. He hesitantly peeked up, and his poor crushed heart had to struggle with the beauty he saw there.

Yuyan’s brows were drawn with worry. He was looking at Ziluan as one looks at a child who hurts themselves playing. Ziluan couldn’t describe what it felt like to be the focus of such a tender expression on the face of the stern and un-personable Yuyan.

Yuyan sighed ruefully. But then, to Ziluan’s further disbelief, he raised his hand and cupped Ziluan’s face, even stroking his cheek with his thumb. He looked him over to make sure he was not badly injured, and shook his head in exasperation. 

“What are you doing?” he asked softly. 

But before Ziluan could even think to answer, with the same arm he grasped Ziluan by the back of his neck and pulled him against his chest in an almost overly tight embrace. 

Ziluan could barely breathe; not from the embrace itself, but from the emotion flooding his chest. He could feel Yuyan’s warmth. He was surrounded by his scent. Yuyan’s powerful, calloused fingers still pressed firmly to the back of Ziluan’s neck, and even tightened slightly. Ziluan’s chest ached just to be so close, unable to comprehend what was happening.

He thought of raising his hands to return the embrace, but the moment he did, Yuyan drew away from him and started to walk back to Lotus Pier. He glanced at Hua Baizhou as if noticing him for the first time. 

“Baizhou,” he said simply in greeting. 

“…Jiezhang,” Baizhou muttered without looking up.

“And Ziluan,” Yuyan said, only half turning his head back toward him. 

“…yes…?”

Yuyan sighed softly, and because he could only just see his profile, Ziluan couldn’t read his expression. “Come to my room for a bit. We need to talk.”

With that, the small joy he had felt at Yuyan’s tenderness just now vanished in a puff of smoke. He had a few guesses about what Clan Leader Jiang might want to say to him. None of it was good. But even if he hadn’t felt especially obedient out of guilt, he was still a myrmidon of the Jiang clan until told otherwise. He couldn’t refuse his clan leader.

“Yes…”

Ziluan followed Yuyan solemnly to his room. He wondered as they walked why Yuyan would bother finding a private space to talk, when up until now he seemed to have little issue having quite public conflicts. 

After Ziluan entered and closed the door behind him, Yuyan surprised him by resting himself tiredly on his own bed, removing his diadem and rubbing the back of his neck. With a flash of guilt, Ziluan reflected that he probably hadn’t slept, out of worry for his son. He grew more and more anxious about what Yuyan was going to say as the silence stretched out, but was afraid to break it.

Finally, Yuyan let out a heavy breath, still looking at the floor. “About whether you’ll be a danger to anyone-“

“Ah, I had an idea about that,” Ziluan contributed, attempting a smile. “I believe I can design talismans which will cut off my spiritual power automatically if I attempt to harm anyone. It’s not a perfect idea…for example I could still stab someone if given the opportunity…”

Yuyan shook his head irritably. “I shouldn’t have said ‘anyone.’ The target is me, and I won’t be killed by stabbing, I assure you. I meant to say, I hope you’ve realized how foolish it is to do things on your own, when I’m clearly head and shoulders above you in both cultivation and life experience.”

Ziluan hesitantly nodded, having to concede that all this was true. 

But Yuyan grew pensive again as silence fell between them. He surprised Ziluan again by, after only resting for a few moments, getting up to pace in the rear of the room. It seemed to be a nervous habit of his, while making him seem all the more wolf-like.

Ziluan got the feeling he wasn’t expected to go just yet, but the silence was really starting to make him nervous. “C-…Clan Leader…?” he pressed softly.

Yuyan reluctantly stopped pacing, but still didn’t look at him. “And?” he asked abruptly. “Did you find anything?”

Ziluan was forced to shake his head. “Nothing tangible. I believe there are things I have learned…for example, it seemed the enemy wanted this location to be found. It seemed to have been a trap, but perhaps only for outsiders who did not have the dire owl heart, as the worst attacks fell on Hua Baizhou and Lady Jin. I believe this means the enemy is in fact from nowhere near Gusu, but wants us to believe they are.”

Yuyan took this in silently for a time before he began pacing again. He finally came to a stop near a shelf of books and rested his hand on it to collect his thoughts. Ziluan was even surprised such a thing would be in Clan Leader Jiang’s bedroom, as he didn’t picture him as being much of a reader.

Yuyan seemed to be working himself up to saying something difficult. Ziluan swallowed, unable to picture what this blunt man would find hard to say, but certain it was something particularly bad. 

“Does it hurt?” Yuyan asked softly.

“…my wounds?” Ziluan asked curiously, about the minor scrapes from the dire birds. He glanced down at his body and was once again reminded of the depression in his chest. “Oh…” he murmured. “No. I think it would be more reassuring if it did…and I won’t say it’s comfortable exactly, but it’s not pain.”

Yuyan let out a soft breath of relief to hear that. But then finally he seemed to work up his nerve to say what he had been meaning to. 

“You’ve probably heard more stories about my father than most, Ziluan. You know he didn’t marry until late in life. And he wasted over a decade with regret, envy and an obsession with revenge. The knowledge of my father’s errors made me think the only really important thing is treating every moment as precious.”

Ziluan didn’t know how to answer any of that, but Yuyan wasn’t finished. He took in a slow breath and let it out. “I’m really afraid of you dying in front of me at any moment, you know,” Yuyan said.

Ziluan sucked in a shocked breath, at that moment more concerned about Yuyan’s care for him than the truth of his own precarious existence. 

“All I mean to say is…don’t go away again,” Yuyan continued softly. “You need to let people help you. Everyone does. And if you can’t bear to make your father worry, then at least let me do it in his place. If you need something, you just need to say it. There’s no point in holding back anything now. Don’t leave this world with regrets.”

Even though it shouldn’t be able to move anymore, Ziluan felt his heart thundering in his ears. He knew his family loved him, but they were all quite sparing with displays of emotion. Even Wei Wuxian tended to conceal his real feelings with humor. This kind of candor, and moreover from someone he loved, was almost too sweet to bear.

In the glow of Yuyan’s caring words, Ziluan let slip words that should be forbidden. “A kiss…” he whispered.

Yuyan’s looming body froze. His forbidding eyes widened at the floor in front of him, but he pointedly avoided looking up at Ziluan. “What?” he muttered, perhaps thinking he had misheard.

Ziluan closed his eyes tightly, trying not to cry. But what Yuyan said was entirely true. Every moment he had left now was precious. He would only regret holding back in order to save face, or keep the peace. Yuyan deserved to know how he really felt, and Ziluan’s own self deserved to be able to be honest.

“If…I could have one kiss from you, Clan Leader Jiang, I do not think I would die with regrets.”

Finally Yuyan reluctantly looked up at him. Ziluan had difficulty reading his expression, but the older man looked betrayed. Ziluan cowered with regret already for having forced his feelings into the open this way. Had he perhaps made a horrible mistake?


	9. Stained Silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuyan is forced to either take advantage of a younger man or deny his dying wish. As the group rests and heals their wounds, a new threat arrives, and Yuyan takes it upon himself to defend Lan Ziluan in the only way he can think of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for homophobia, but I promise there's a reward for it at the end. <3
> 
> Note: Hua Airong’s sword is Jianzhi 监制, “Persevere”.

Yuyan wanted to think he had misheard. But there was no mistaking those eyes. He turned away and put his head in his hands without anything else to do. He couldn’t handle this right now.

Ever since they met, this boy had done nothing but rock Yuyan’s equilibrium. He was constantly being either moved, humiliated or captivated by him, in vast waves out of his control. He could still feel Ziluan’s light and fragile body colliding into his own as he willingly subjected himself to the horrible fate both of them had witnessed that very morning. Albeit he would probably do the same for his own son, Yuyan couldn’t imagine doing it for anyone else. What kind of devotion was that? What had he done to deserve it? 

And why did this insufferable fool have to wreck that beautiful emotion with complications?

Yuyan was already shaking his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. How could he? Neither answer was acceptable. Denying the dying wish of a man who gave his life for him, or taking advantage of a young and impressionable boy who probably had no idea what love actually was. Yuyan did not even realize in the moment that being a cut-sleeve was relatively low on his list of objections, far beneath a parental concern for Ziluan’s welfare. And even further beneath a nagging feeling that he was a disgusting old man for even thinking about giving in.

He told himself he had to control his anger. There was no telling when this pure and innocent being in front of him might drop dead out of the blue. He couldn’t risk angry words being the last he said to him. 

“…you can’t have believed I would agree to that,” he said at last, carefully controlling his volume.

Though he knew what would happen when he said that, it still felt like being punched in the chest to see Lan Ziluan’s large, puppy-like eyes flutter briefly, then begin to fill with tears. Ziluan lowered his gaze as two coursed silently down his cheeks.

“No…that was going too far,” Ziluan agreed quietly. But rather than simply sad or hurt by Yuyan’s words, he seemed shocked with himself. He was probably deeply regretting saying anything. He clasped shaking hands together and bowed. “Clan Leader Jiang. I am very sorry.”

With that, he barely got the door open fast enough to run out of it. 

Yuyan’s heart wavered yet again at the echoing silence that Ziluan left behind. He couldn’t give in. Every sense he had about right and wrong told him that to kiss this person would be wrong. But compared to what he could have asked, either sex or a relationship for example, Yuyan had to admit that a simple kiss was almost sweet. Was there anything he could do for him, without hurting him further in one way or another?

In the meantime, though he was utterly drained from missing sleep due to worry, he reset his diadem and went out to check on the others who had apparently been injured with Ziluan. 

Even once she was awake and her wound had been properly seen to, Jin Lianyi refused to look at him. Given the fact that she would normally be stuck tight to him, this was concerning, but at the same time he also felt she was his cousin’s problem. He got her permission to contact Jin Rulan and sent a messenger out immediately. 

Jiang Jian seemed to be remarkably unhurt, considering the state of the others, even that depressing little Baizhou. Yuyan glanced at the latter and saw he was clearly covered in more wounds than Ziluan had been, but wasn’t approaching the doctor. 

“Hey,” Yuyan said, getting Baizhou’s attention. He shoved his head in the direction of the doctor, who was starting to pack up her things.

Baizhou glanced once between Yuyan and the doctor. He lowered his shaggy head hesitantly. He shook it, somehow making his wounded state look even more pathetic. 

Yuyan clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Doctor,” he said, and only thumbed in Baizhou’s direction when she glanced up.

The doctor smiled and nodded, carefully approaching Baizhou and asking him to sit on a nearby bench. 

“Ziluan wasn’t much use just now. What exactly happened up there?” Yuyan asked of Jiang Jian. 

A-Jian hesitated, which was unusual for him. “Ah…well, there really wasn’t much to tell,” he said magnanimously. “A little hut containing who knows how many dire birds. Lan Ziluan was starting to think it was a trap…I believe he was saying we may have been led there. Lady Jin was attempting to find out more when she was attacked, then we all were. Lady Jin’s quick skill at making a ward protected us, while Ziluan conceived of an…unconventional escape.” More quietly, so that Jin Lianyi could not hear, he added, “Lady Jin was extremely selfless and brave throughout. I certainly would have been hurt, if not worse, if not for her.”

Yuyan nodded solemnly, promising internally not to forget this. Coming from someone as prideful as A-Jian, praise like that wasn’t to be ignored. 

He noticed his son raising an eyebrow up at him dubiously. Yuyan frowned back at him. “What’s that look for?”

“…will you consider it?”

“Consider what?”

A-Jian scoffed slightly with a bitter smile. Under his breath he said, “Of course, I mean Lady Jin’s candidacy for your second wife.”

“…for my what?!” Yuyan snarled with far too much volume for even an impromptu infirmary.

“I knew it,” A-Jian said with a triumphant smirk, which soon became directed at Jin Lianyi, while everyone else in the room stared at Yuyan.

Jin Lianyi sighed, having apparently heard despite at least one of their attempts at speaking softly. “Yes, I lied. It doesn’t matter now. So you can save your smirking, Jiang Jian.”

“Giving up so easily? Pity. I was just starting to get a better opinion of the Jin,” A-Jian said, tilting his head with an intentionally provocative smile.

Lianyi widened her good eye as she stared back at him in anger. But moments later, her gaze lowered and she turned away, seeming conscious of Yuyan’s presence.

Yuyan shook his head in exasperation, wondering why he seemed to be stuck in between two such troublesome people. But with that said, perhaps pity over the ugly red stain visible over the white bandage on her finely structured face, similar to Lan Ziluan’s, swayed him more than he might usually have been. 

“I’m not looking for a wife,” he said firmly. To her credit, Lady Jin lifted her chin slightly in a show of retaining her pride, which he found quite admirable. Yuyan shifted his jaw in anticipated discomfort with what he was about to say next. “But…if I were…it would be hard to ignore one who risked her own safety for the sake of my son.”

Jin Lianyi’s lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t turn. 

Beside him, A-Jian nodded to himself with a knowing smile. “Very skillfully done,” he whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Watch it,” Yuyan growled. “Baizhou,” he said, remembering his former brother-in-law’s presence. “You’ll stay in Yunmeng tonight, I assume.”

“I…I don’t…” Baizhou mumbled, shaking his head vaguely, as always especially taciturn around Yuyan for some reason. Yuyan had never figured out why. Personally he thought Airong was a lot scarier as a person than he was.

Yuyan nodded to himself, already bored with his indecisiveness. “I’ll have a room made up and an extra portion made at dinner. All of you, get some rest.”

He walked outside, rubbing the back of his neck and longing for some quiet, but soon realized he wasn’t going to get it. A servant came up running to him from the main entrance. He sighed. “Now what?”

“Clan Leader! Clan Leader Hua is here!”

Yuyan physically flinched. He unconsciously reached a hand up to the mark Airong’s ring had left on his cheek when she last slapped him. He used the same hand to wipe down his face to try and dispel some of his tiredness. He nodded to the servant.

“Show her in. Prepare some tea.”

When they first met, Hua Airong was the most powerful cultivator Yuyan knew who wasn’t already a clan leader. Soon after their marriage dissolved, she had taken over for her mother who retired from being clan leader of the Hua. Now, the Jiang, Nie and Hua clans tended to be grouped together as having a reputation for being “unmanageable”: unpredictable, swift to mete out justice as they saw it, and, it must be said, lacking a certain degree of class.

“Jackass,” Airong muttered the moment she saw him. 

Her eyes followed him with a certain ruthlessness as he crossed the banquet hall in front of her. Yuyan sighed, taking a seat at the clan leader’s chair in his banquet hall, while Airong sat in a guest seat with untouched tea in front of her. 

Hua Airong resembled her gloomy brother in some ways but kept her wild hair pulled tightly back to avoid interfering with fighting. She had fuller lips and rather droopier eyes than might be ideally beautiful, but Yuyan had always liked her looks. He didn’t even hate her temper, and would gladly still put up with it. But neither was he one to beg.

“He’s fine,” he said preemptively. 

“By chance, he’s not injured. That’s what you mean,” Airong interpreted. “You still haven’t explained to me what the hell he was doing chasing after a cut-sleeve in the wilderness in Gusu. He’s supposed to be training to be your successor. Is that fit behavior for the young master of the Jiang clan?”

Yuyan rolled his eyes, but he had to admit he had been wondering that himself. He didn’t much care himself about gossip, but he wasn’t blind. He knew his son rarely acted without ulterior motives of some kind. He didn’t actually think A-Jian was interested in Lan Ziluan in that way, but there was something about the way he paid attention to him that unsettled Yuyan.

“Well, Airong, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what he was doing. He’s an adult and I don’t expect him to report everything to me. Perhaps he’s not used to having friends his own age.” 

“Fourteen is hardly an adult,” she said incredulously. “And exactly how old is that cut-sleeve Lan? Old enough to be taking exams, so twenty? That IS an adult. You don’t see anything wrong with that?”

“He’s not a cut-sleeve,” Yuyan replied tiredly, rubbing his temples.

“He famously is.”

Yuyan blinked as he realized she was talking about Ziluan. “I meant our son,” he growled. “What does Lan Ziluan’s character have to do with it? A-Jian isn’t interested in that kind of thing, so nothing would happen.”

Airong gave a bitter laugh as Jiang Jian often did. “You can’t really be that naïve,” she said.

There was something about the way she was focusing so intently on Ziluan’s sexuality that was starting to irritate Yuyan, though he didn’t realize why at the time. “You really think Jiang Jian is that easily coerced? I promise you, he’s the one pulling the strings in that relationship.” Yuyan winced as soon as the ill-chosen word was out of his mouth.

“What do you mean ‘relationship’?” Airong demanded in a low, dangerous tone.

“Association. Acquaintance. Whatever. There’s nothing going on, Airong. Or…if anything it’s…I don’t know, admiration. He stood and watched while that boy tried to give his life for me. You can’t expect a teenage boy not to be a little impressed by that.”

Airong’s jaw shifted in displeasure as she considered. “What I do expect is for a fully grown man to be a little more conscious of the ways of the world. We both agree it’s odd that he’s so interested, whatever the reason. And whatever the reason, an association with a confused, bastard cut-sleeve of the Lan, currently in the middle of some kind of death grudge against you, will do him no good and can only do him harm! So explain to me why, given all of this, both your easily impressed son and that THING are both still under your protection!”

Many things about that tirade stuck in Yuyan’s gut and sent a fire of anger up through him. For one thing, having already overheard two interactions between the two of them, he was quite certain if anything it was A-Jian bothering Ziluan, not the other way around. There were also several dehumanizing phrases about Ziluan in there that sent sparks into his Zidian before he even realized it himself. He quickly settled his spiritual energy as soon as he did, knowing if he and Airong ever fought seriously that at least one of them would surely die. But as to her point about separating A-Jian and Ziluan for their own good, he had no immediate answer.

He took a breath in to steady himself, trying to let go of irrelevant things that it would do him no good to argue. “It’s not complicated,” he answered eventually. “Lan Ziluan is my myrmidon. Jiang Jian is my son. Do I need another reason?”

Airong scoffed bitterly, but she would be well aware there was not much she could do. Jiang Jian had not had his capping ceremony yet, which meant that legally speaking he could only be removed from the Jiang household with Jiang Yuyan’s permission. And while Yuyan didn’t think Hua Airong would be above starting a clan war to protect her son, he trusted that she would need some evidence of her accusations in order to take things any further at present. 

“You’ll stay for dinner too?” he asked her, making an attempt at civility for once.

Airong sighed, reluctantly letting go of her anger too. She finally reached for the tea in front of her and took a drink in thought. “Well. I shouldn’t pass up the chance to see a strange thing.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” Yuyan added as he stood and prepared to leave. “But if you call Lan Ziluan a thing one more time, I’ll throw you out.”

“Scary,” Airong said with clear sarcasm as she took another sip of tea.

Yuyan sighed with a little bit of self-disgust as he was extremely attracted to her strength of will, even while she was insulting someone important to him. He finally went back to his own room and collapsed on his bed to rest for a couple of hours before dinner. He let down his hair and flopped it over his face to block out some daylight.

He hovered around a pleasant state near sleep for he wasn’t sure how long. But suddenly, his pleasant afternoon relaxing was interrupted by a scream. It was Airong’s voice. He snatched up Jiujiu without a thought and ran out after the sound. 

He was shocked when he found Airong holding Lan Ziluan by his collar and physically shaking him as she yelled much worse language than she had used earlier. On the ground nearby as if he had fallen, Jiang Jian sat looking quite shocked by the scene. 

Yuyan growled and prepared some choice words for his former wife, when to the surprise of all, someone else stepped in instead.

Hua Baizhou tore his sister’s hand from Ziluan’s chest and shoved her back. He stood resolutely between them, even though he seemed to shrink from looking her in the eye. 

Airong was not the least bit amused by this rebellion. Yuyan saw her hand come to rest on Jianzhi and he prepared to draw his own sword too. “Hua Sui,” she muttered, in soft disbelief. “What are you trying to say by getting between me and my son’s safety?”

Baizhou muttered something that probably only Ziluan was close enough to hear. 

“Speak,” Airong commanded firmly.

“Your…son…isn’t in danger,” Baizhou finally managed enough volume for her to hear. “…except from your prejudice.”

“Excuse me?” Airong asked with a dangerous smile.

“You…don’t know anything,” Baizhou said louder, seeming to gain either confidence or frustration as he said the words aloud. “You don’t even try. You’ve decided what your enemy is and you’ll pursue it even if it’s innocent.”

“You dare speak back to me…?” Airong asked, clearly moments from teaching her brother a lesson.

Baizhou cowered but wouldn’t move from standing in front of Lan Ziluan. “Yes!” he shouted. “Because I love my sister and my nephew, I will speak back! And…and…” he panted as he seemed already to be losing his steam. Finally he pointed a hesitant finger toward his nephew, still sitting awkwardly on the ground as this all took place. 

“And…if you were looking properly, you would know…the one A-Jian likes is Jin Lianyi!”

The taciturn man’s shout echoed through the courtyard. Ziluan looked aside as if embarrassed, but his slight smile said he already knew. Airong seemed mildly surprised but also confused, as she hadn’t yet realized why that would be relevant. Yuyan himself nodded slightly as some things started to make sense. Meanwhile Jiang Chenxi went slowly red before hanging his head between his knees, mortified.

“Okay, okay. That’s about enough of that,” Yuyan said, approaching. “Airong, I don’t know what happened, but you had better have a good reason for threatening one of my myrmidons.”

“A good reason? He was embracing our son,” she growled.

“It’s not contagious,” Baizhou barked at her.

“Wow,” Airong commented, her anger clearly rising despite a grim smile. “You really want to be dragged behind my horse back to Yingchuan, don’t you?”

“Just embracing?” Yuyan clarified dubiously.

“’Just’?! You really don’t have a problem with a cut-sleeve holding your son?” Airong demanded.

“Well, well. Clan Leader Hua is a force to be reckoned with,” said A-Jian as he rose and brushed himself off calmly, though his face was still a little red. He sighed. “It’s a pity. But if she insists on hating anyone for who they love, I must oppose her. How truly upsetting.”

Airong stared in wonder at her son. “A-Jian…you’re not going to tell me…it’s true?”

Jiang Chenxi sighed as he considered. “No. Because I will tell you nothing on the matter, as it is not your concern. But neither will I cower while one person who is dear to me hurts others with careless words,” he said, looking quite grown up even though he had always been well-spoken. “Lan Ziluan is a good person. And Jiujiu is only trying to help by telling you that. If anything, Mother, I think you owe Ziluan an apology.”

Airong’s anger appeared to have reached a boiling point, and spiritual energy could be felt tangibly emanating from her. “It’s not your fault, A-Jian,” she said carefully. “You’re too young to know what he is.”

“Airong,” Yuyan growled dangerously.

“Do you know what he really is? That innocent little face, playing priest in Gusu? He’s not a Lan. He was sired by a bastard of that perfidious Jin Guangshan. A bastard of a bastard. It’s only natural he’ll go after man, woman or animal.”

“That is enough!” Yuyan shouted, and with that he walked past Airong and Baizhou and grasped Ziluan’s arm. “Forgive me,” he whispered. 

Though he felt his own fingertips trembling, Yuyan grasped Ziluan’s cheek in his hand. He met his panicked eyes briefly before craning his neck down while pulling Ziluan’s face up to meet his. His heart ached at seeing Ziluan’s face this close. At this moment, everything felt right. This innocent person had gone through so much for him, and in truth each time they parted it seemed to hurt more. Every part of him he wasn’t touching now felt lonely.

He carefully pressed his lips to Ziluan’s. He felt a tantalizing gasp against his lips. Ziluan’s body emptied of all strength and trembled against him. In the back of his mind, Yuyan was aware he had made his point. It was enough. But he couldn’t part from him. Despite being under the collective gaze of his family and probably at least a few sect members, he deepened the kiss. He wove his fingers into the hair at the back of Ziluan’s neck, savoring every little tremor and gasp from the younger man. 

When he finally let go, Ziluan crumpled against him, gasping in breaths. Yuyan had to hold him up or he would fall. As Yuyan thought, he was either very inexperienced or…very in love. Either way, in spite of how adorable such behavior was, the fresh wave of guilt that came with it brought him back to his senses.

Yuyan looked around and coughed awkwardly into the heavy silence of the three people now gaping at him, each in varying shades of horror. He raised a challenging eyebrow at Airong. 

“So now you can understand why I’m certain there’s nothing going on with A-Jian. And why I won’t take one more single ill-conceived insult toward my cultivation partner.”

Ziluan’s fingers tightened over his chest, first sending a thrill throughout his body and then provoking another wave of guilt, as he realized he would have to explain fully later. 

But in the protracted silence which followed, somehow the only one who managed to break it in any way was Jiang Chenxi, who simply made an odd noise of strangled shock. Yuyan blinked around at the faces of his family members and briefly wondered whether he had gone a little too far.


	10. Wet Sleeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuyan defends Ziluan to his former wife. But in the end, Yuyan must be honest with Ziluan about the future, even if it hurts. As Ziluan makes a difficult decision, something darker lurks in Lotus Pier, coming for Jiang Yuyan.

Ziluan felt himself trembling. He could barely take full breaths. His skin tingled, especially his back, where Jiang Yuyan was still touching him. With each breath, he felt as if he could still feel Yuyan’s lips against his own. Yet already he felt it was over too soon. He hadn’t savored it enough. Would he do it again?

“He…” Hua Airong gasped, half choking on ire. “He…” She pointed directly at Ziluan and claimed inexplicably, “He’s a child!”

Yuyan expelled a soft breath of frustration. “Earlier today, I seem to remember his being an adult was a problem.”

“Compared to your son,” Airong pointed out. “But as you yourself said, they’re more or less close in age, you pervert!”

Ziluan didn’t really know how to respond to any of this, but he clung to Yuyan in both anxiety and relief. His head was still full of how overwhelming it felt to be kissed by him, and how he wished to feel that again. Being inside Yuyan’s arms felt so comfortable. Yet hearing his deep voice reverberating against his fingers, on Yuyan’s iron-like chest, filled him with both an odd, excited happiness and yet more desire.

“That’s your only complaint?” Yuyan challenged. 

Airong shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “I really hope this isn’t some misguided attempt to make me jealous, because even when I still had any claim to you, I didn’t do that.”

Yuyan nodded. “A quality I admired. But not what I meant. You have a problem with Ziluan approaching A-Jian but not me?”

“…should I? What business is it of mine?”

“Exactly,” Jiang Chenxi muttered.

Airong rubbed her temples, clearly just about fed up with all of this. “A-Jian, you’re not old enough to understand how the world treats people like that. If your father is willing to sacrifice his reputation, that’s entirely his business. But my son won’t be dragged into the mud for a temporary fixation which is nothing more than smoke: it poisons you, then vanishes leaving no trace.”

Ziluan’s fingers unconsciously tightened over Yuyan’s chest. It wasn’t his first time hearing things like that, but rather than getting used to it, he often that like each stab like this only hurt worse. It also reminded him that his openness about being a cut-sleeve affected not only him, but his entire family. Even if Yuyan accepted him, was it wrong?

“…the most famous romance of our lifetimes,” Yuyan said softly. 

Airong glanced at him with suspicion. “Yes…?”

“I’m asking,” Yuyan said, and Ziluan was sure he felt Yuyan’s arms pull him even closer, almost protectively. “Name them.”

Her jaw tightened, as clearly the same two names were occurring to her that were occurring to everyone else. “It is the exception that proves the rule,” she said firmly. “They were both of age and fully established when they…began. Neither had to succeed a clan. One of them was an infamous criminal. Hardly a positive example.”

With that, Ziluan finally broke away from Yuyan. Any joy he had felt up until now, and even his anxiety, melted away with frustration and anger that boiled up inside him. He had a hard time controlling his breathing. 

‘Do not give in to rage,’ he whispered to himself inside his mind.

He faced Hua Airong. At the same time he glanced sympathetically toward her rapt son and visibly shaking younger brother, for whom this may have been even worse for Ziluan, as it seemed he had not told her about himself. 

To Airong, Ziluan said, “Wei Wuxian’s reputation has been his greatest difficulty in interacting with the world. I know many did not understand him. I am sure I did not either. But the Wei Wuxian I knew…” He felt himself starting to cry as he said this, but he refused to stop. “…was the greatest man I have ever met. The most noble, the most caring, full of joy and life, brave and self-sacrificing. Perhaps equaling only one other.”

He stopped and found himself softly smiling, caught up in an old memory of what he thought had been one of his happiest moments in life. Wei Wuxian joking about something foolish, and Hanguang Jun barely concealing a smile as he drank tea. There was nothing special about that moment, he had seen the more or less the same thing a hundred times. But in that moment, he felt so filled with deep happiness that it stuck in his memory. He was sad to think that he had almost forgotten it until now.

“I cannot change your mind about them,” Ziluan said, though the words came out with more sadness than he intended. “I can only tell you who they were to me, and ask that you consider that before speaking of them in such a way again.”

Yuyan nodded and took Ziluan by the shoulder again to guide him away. “Well said. And Airong, I hope you remember disrespecting Hanguang Jun the next time you need something from Gusu Lan sect.”

While she clearly showed an expression of frustration as they left, Airong seemed to have nothing else to say. Perhaps simply knowing that her son was not “in danger” had satisfied her. Ziluan already felt guilty for speaking out of anger. He hoped in some way that he might change at least one person’s perception of Wei Wuxian as a devil. 

Yuyan led Ziluan to the nearest quiet sitting room and closed the sliding doors behind them. Yuyan flopped against them with his back and let out a long sigh, closing his eyes in obvious exhaustion. Ziluan flushed already just at being alone with him. He had also not failed to notice that Yuyan had emerged once again with his hair disheveled, this time almost entirely loose but for his braids. He wasn’t sure having his hair down was entirely flattering, but it was yet another side of him, and being able to see it somehow made Ziluan’s heart pound.

Yuyan opened his eyes as if just realizing Ziluan was here. He let out a soft sigh and folded his arms, seeming to need a moment to compose what he wanted to say.

“Ziluan…about that, just now…” Yuyan said with a note of regret in his voice.

Ziluan’s lips parted. Oh no.

“I hadn’t…that is, I didn’t mean…” Yuyan struggled to explain.

Ziluan weakly shook his head, wishing he would stop. But Yuyan didn’t seem to notice. I have to get out of here, Ziluan thought, and immediately he couldn’t think of anything else.

Yuyan sighed, rubbing the crease between his brows. “I apologize if it confused you-“

“Oh,” Ziluan said quickly, but he couldn’t hide the tears that were already blurring his eyes. “I haven’t even done my evening chores. Excuse me, Clan Leader.”

He tried to open the door, but Yuyan’s arm crossed in front of him and held it closed. Though his hands were trembling, and he could see his own tears dripping down onto his sleeves, Ziluan didn’t take his hands down. He weakly tried to pull the door, even knowing he was no match to Yuyan in strength.

“It might not have been the way you wanted, but I answered your wish. Isn’t that right?”

Ziluan couldn’t hold back a sob. Out of shame, he tried to regulate his breathing, but the tears kept falling. He had known this from the start. Why did it hurt so badly, just being told what he already knew?

“It was my fault for not asking first. But…do I have to explain again? Why it wouldn’t work?”

Ziluan quickly shook his head. “Please let me go,” he whispered.

Yuyan seemed to pity him and want to let him leave, but worry still hung over his face. And in the end, he seemed to decide that no matter what, he simply couldn’t leave this issue to chance. Or leave Ziluan with the tiniest hope. 

“I can’t ever be with you like that, Ziluan.”

With this, a veil of darkness fell over the world in front of Ziluan’s eyes. He could feel that his tears were still falling, but his insides felt numb. In shock for some time, he couldn’t respond at all.

“I’m sorry. I just need you to understand that.”

Ziluan nodded weakly. “I do understand.” The words came out mechanically. Ziluan himself felt far away, locked someplace deep where he couldn’t reach the light. “It was only a moment. It won’t happen again.”

“Ziluan…you’ll stay in Yunmeng, won’t you?”

Ziluan couldn’t understand why at first, but he felt this was the cruelest thing that Yuyan had said so far. Stay here? He hadn’t even thought about leaving before now, to be honest. He told himself he wasn’t expecting anything from Clan Leader Jiang. He knew if Yuyan had any concern for him it was not romantic. Perhaps he had already learned enough at his brief indoctrination period here. And perhaps it was time to take care of the people who really deserved his loyalty.

He had more or less made up his mind in just a few moments of thought, but when it came time to say it, the words would not come out. It hurt so badly to think of being apart from him. He might die without ever seeing him again. But wasn’t that kinder? Wasn’t that as it should be? 

He couldn’t help his gaze from drifting up to meet Yuyan’s. He let this moment linger, trying to remember everything about him, even though it was painful. Internally, he thanked those who had brought Jiang Yuyan into the world, and Yuyan himself for his long endurance of Ziluan’s company.

“…I shouldn’t die here,” Ziluan said softly. “I should be with my father. In Gusu.”

Subdued shock rippled across Yuyan’s face, and slowly quieted. He lowered his gaze. “Oh…” he said simply.

Ziluan ached just watching him, even though he kept repeatedly telling himself that was not loneliness he saw, but only a kind of mentor-like concern. He sniffed and tried to make his face presentable by dabbing it with his sleeves. He didn’t want to undo the noble lie that Yuyan had told, on his and all other cut-sleeves’ behalf just now. If he was seen to emerge from Yuyan's room crying, it might at least cast doubt to whether they were indeed cultivation partners. 

“Why…” Yuyan started to ask, but immediately stopped himself and looked away. Ziluan noticed him tightening his hand into a fist, but chose not to comment on it. 

“For these last few weeks, and…for your great kindness to me,” Ziluan said carefully, feeling himself ready to cry again in spite of how much he just wanted to get out of here. He clasped his hands and bowed. “Thank you, Clan Leader Jiang.”

Yuyan didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at him. He seemed about to say something but stopped himself once again, simply looking at the floor. Ziluan opened the door and was away as quickly as he could be.

It hurt the worst when he returned to the myrmidons’ sleeping quarters and faced the room he would be leaving, all alone somehow more than he had ever been. He needed to get home. He couldn’t wait a moment longer to see his family. 

There were procedures for this, but Ziluan finally felt internally what his exterior wound told him he should; hollow, and crushed. He needed to see his father’s face. He wanted to lay his head in Zewu Jun’s lap and cry, as he had not done since he was very little. And worst of all, his whole body ached with the thought that he could not look to his grandfathers for comfort this time, when he needed them the most. 

Ziluan sobbed as he packed his bag and moments later flew out past civilization of any kind, into the fields, forest and eventually hills leading to Gusu. In his haste, he failed to notice the danger that had crept up to Yuyan soon after he left. 

In the sitting room that Ziluan had left, one man stood in silence, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake. And on the other side of the door against which he leaned, a talisman clutched between two fingers slowly glowed into life. 

The talisman cut through the paper door with a tight snap, pasting itself against the head of its target. The heavy, wolf-like man crumpled in an ungraceful heap. And Jiang Yuyan was finally in the enemy’s hands.


	11. Gathering Ferns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The master of the dire owl reveals themselves in order to take revenge on Jiang Yuyan at last. While Jin Lianyi soon discovers the danger, Ziluan has already returned to the Cloud Recesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: some violence in this chapter.  
> ...  
> \- Baizhou’s sword is called Caiwei 采薇 (“gathering ferns”), a reference to the old song of the Shijing, Cao Chong 草蟲 (English translation by James Legge):  
> 喓喓草蟲、趯趯阜螽  
> 未見君子、憂心忡忡。  
> 亦既見止、亦既覯止、我心則降。  
> Yao-yao went the grass-insects, and the hoppers sprang about.  
> While I do not see my lord, my sorrowful heart is agitated.  
> Let me have seen him, let me have met him,  
> And my heart will then be stilled.  
> 陟彼南山、言采其蕨。  
> 未見君子、憂心惙惙。  
> 亦既見止、亦既覯止、我心則說。  
> I ascended that hill in the south, and gathered the turtle-foot ferns.  
> While I do not see my lord, my sorrowful heart is very sad.  
> Let me have seen him, let me have met him,  
> And my heart will then be pleased.  
> 陟彼南山、言采其薇。  
> 未見君子、我心傷悲。  
> 亦既見止、亦既覯止、我心則夷。  
> I ascended that hill in the south, and gathered the thorn-ferns.  
> While I do not see my lord, my sorrowful heart is wounded with grief.  
> Let me have seen him, let me have met him,  
> And my heart will then be at peace.

He should still be alive.

When Hua Baizhou woke up that morning, it was his first thought. As it always was. 

He should still be alive.

When Hua Baizhou washed his face, this was his thought. As it always was. When he got dressed, when he drew Caiwei, when he floated across the not insignificant distance from his home in Yingchuan to the wilds north of Gusu, and when he met eyes for the first time with the person he idolized and longed to set free of this world of cruelty, always, his mind was filled with this one thought. And more so, when he reluctantly brought the divine person back to meet a devilish one.

“Baizhou,” Yuyan had grunted, as was his usual greeting.

He should still be alive!

Baizhou nodded meekly. “Jiezhang.”

His former brother-in-law, as always, made an imposing figure, especially when worried over those he loved. But in spite of how well Baizhou thought he knew this man, it seemed he could still be surprised by him. 

As Baizhou watched, Yuyan had touched the angel’s face. With kindness. With care. What a farce. As if this brutal man even possessed those emotions.

If Baizhou had been less hurt, or perhaps more accepting of pain, seeing Yuyan’s expression as he seemed to want to look after Lan Ziluan might have changed him. As it was, what he saw as a mere façade of empathy, seemingly applied so selfishly and randomly, only deepened the boiling hatred that seethed in Hua Baizhou’s heart. 

He should still be alive.

Baizhou did love his sister. Or so he told himself. He at least tried very hard. He certainly did love his nephew, who had always been kind to him, even though from the time he was little he seemed to enjoy ruffling people’s feathers. Baizhou never wanted any harm to befall either of them. But hearing Airong publicly call people like him “things,” “smoke,” and “poison,” though it was not his first time hearing such bile, had finally been too much. He didn’t really want to hurt her, but the need for her to understand his pain was overwhelming.

“Hua Sui…?”

Baizhou’s spine stiffened with fear. Airong’s voice had come from behind him. Yuyan’s crumpled body, with the talisman stuck to the back of his head, would be visible in the doorway past where Baizhou was standing, his fingers still outstretched from having cast it. He would have only one moment of shock. One opportunity. He could not hesitate. 

He used his spiritual energy to silently draw Caiwei. 

“You-!“

WHACK!

Caiwei’s hilt made a sickening crack as it came in contact with Airong’s head. She too fell like her former husband into a rumpled pile of silk on the ground. Baizhou only realized belatedly that he had a spare talisman which he could have used, with significantly less danger of permanent damage. Perhaps being talked about like a monster had been more affecting than he realized.

He sheathed Caiwei and started to drag Airong into the same room as Yuyan when he saw another face watching him in horror.

“Uncle…?” A-Jian whispered.

Baizhou’s hands, underneath his unconscious and bleeding sister’s arms, began to tremble. “…A-Jian…” he murmured. He took a deep breath in and out to gather himself, and for once, let drop the mask of haplessness. “Don’t cry out, and don’t fight. Go inside there.”

A-Jian normally had quite a keen sense of situational awareness, as well as inherent obstinance, but he seemed utterly shaken by the sight of both his parents lying unconscious on the ground. After a moment of standing there shaking, he falteringly went inside and stood over his father, staring at his limp body with an expression like the sky was falling. 

Baizhou looked around to make sure no servants or myrmidons had seen what just happened. He dragged Airong inside and prepared to close the door. With only a small gap left open, he gathered spiritual energy into his hand and slowly made a beckoning motion. After a few seconds of heavy silence, distant whistling in the wind signaled the approach of his birds. One after another, dozens, not just the handful he had shown to Lan Ziluan and the others, flitted inside the room into a larger and larger cloud of black smoke and began to circle around the four people inside. 

When their presence loomed so large that it was oppressive even to him, he bid them to circle faster and faster around the outer edges of the room. Baizhou’s own rose-colored spiritual energy snapped alongside the swirling shadows of the dire birds, until almost all exterior light was obscured. Baizhou shuddered slightly with the pain of controlling so many evil beings at once, and tasted iron rising up in his throat. 

He took a steadying breath and managed hold it back. “A-Jian,” he said softly. “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t want you involved. I promise I won’t hurt you or A-Jie, and I’ll let you go when it’s over.”

A-Jian still seemed in shock. He looked from Baizhou to his parents lying limp on the ground, tears quickly forming in his eyes. But even as he sobbed, Baizhou bid him sit on the floor in the corner of the room and gently but firmly tied him with a curtain rope. When this was done, he attached a talisman to the knot to make sure it didn’t come undone. 

“Uncle…why…?” A-Jian started to ask as he cried, but fear seemed to stop his throat after that.

Baizhou sighed sadly, feeling more worthless than ever at having made A-Jian so scared and disillusioned. “This isn’t about you, A-Jian. But you’ll find out why this needed to happen in a moment. I’m sure your father has forgotten. I came prepared to remind him.”

With difficulty, made even more so by A-Jian’s soft and barely audible crying, he heaved Jiang Yuyan up to his knees, bound his hands and used a binding talisman to string his hands up to the ceiling. He looked on his head flopped forward and bound body with a small amount of satisfaction.

“I’ll tell you one thing, A-Jian,” Baizhou said softly, as he raised his sheathed sword over one of Yuyan’s legs. “Everything that I’m about to do, your father deserves.”

Ignoring the soft gasp of horror he heard behind him, Baizhou brought his sheath down, snapping the bone of Jiang Yuyan’s shin. 

“He should still be alive!” he roared aloud as he did so.

The noise of the bone breaking alone was enough to make one retch. A-Jian let out a strangled cry, but the talisman still had enough power left to keep Yuyan asleep in spite of what must be excruciating pain. Baizhou calmly moved on to his other leg, and snapped that shin as well.

“He would be alive if not for you!!” he cried as he did.

He took a step back, panting through the emotions rampaging through him. Part of him was filled with fear and anger whenever he saw the high and threatening face of Jiang Yuyan. He would gladly keep hurting his helpless body and avoid the danger of him fighting back. But his revenge would not be complete if he could not explain to its object why it was happening. Everything about their interactions up until now confirmed that the most painful moment in Hua Baizhou’s life had meant nothing to Yuyan. That was the worst crime of all. And it must be corrected.

With Yuyan more or less helpless, he took the additional precaution of disarming all three of his family members, cautiously slipping their swords just outside the circle of the dire birds’ ward, so they could not be called by their masters. When he was satisfied that with bound hands, broken legs and no sword, Yuyan would at least have a very hard time fighting back, Baizhou took a slightly shaking breath, and peeled the talisman off Yuyan’s head.

Its effects still lasted for a few more heart-pounding seconds. 

“Father…” A-Jian sobbed miserably.

Yuyan took in a sudden breath, then clenched his teeth to hold back an agonized cry that tore through his throat. He panted, looking down at his own broken legs in panic. At the sound of A-Jian sobbing, his head whirled up. He seemed horrified at A-Jian’s crying face and the binds around him. He also glanced with equal shock down to his right, where blood was still dripping softly from where Baizhou’s sword hilt had come into contact with Airong’s head.

Though he seemed to be squinting through pain that was threatening to deprive him of consciousness, he without thinking tried to tear the talisman binding him in order to get to A-Jian. He struggled against it for several, tense seconds, examining what might be causing it before he even seemed to notice Baizhou standing over him. 

When he did, the expected rage finally rolled over his wolfish face. His mouth twisted in a snarl. “Hua…Bai…zhou…” he growled.

Baizhou admitted internally to feeling much more sick pleasure than he thought he would to have Jiang Yuyan helpless before him. “Jiezhang,” he greeted him, as usual.

“What…are you doing…with my son?” Yuyan snarled, seeming to be so sick with rage that he could barely speak.

Baizhou clenched his jaw as he realized his every expectation of Yuyan had been correct. “You disgust me,” he said softly. 

Though his anger hardly abated, Yuyan’s brows twitched together slightly in genuine confusion. 

“Heh,” Baizhou let out a small, defeated laugh, sitting down on the nearest couch and raking his hands through his hair tiredly. “I knew it. You really have no idea why I might be angry with you, do you?”

“Me? What have I ever done to you? I gave you every courtesy. I protected you from evil beings and your own household alike.”

“Stop right there,” Baizhou hissed, unable to contain his anger any longer. “You don’t remember. Kindly don’t enrage me any further, and I will tell you. I am only here so that you know the true extent of what you have done.”

Yuyan rolled his eyes, clearly uninterested in whatever it was, and tugged fruitlessly again on his binds. He looked down and saw Jiujiu was missing, and clearly attempted to call it to him. Twice. But then fear slowly rose up among all his roaring anger.

“Oh. Don’t bother calling Jiujiu, or anyone or anything outside of this room,” Baizhou told him, pushing himself up from the couch and coming to stand over the broken and bound Yuyan. “That ward is cutting off all spiritual connection between those inside and those outside it. We might as well be in the deepest pit of hell. You can’t get out as long as I’m alive, and no one can possibly come to save you. It is time for your reckoning, Jiang Yuyan.”

…

It was the last lingering frost before spring. Winter was a supremely peaceful time in the Cloud Recesses, and Ziluan had already missed most of it so far. The air was beginning to sparkle with potential, the earth to soften and little rivulets to run off from the snow packs. But the normal joy he felt with the approach of a new spring did not come.

He had confessed everything to Cangfeng Jun and Zewu Jun when he first arrived, and now he was sitting outside on a walkway above the snow to cool his face, reddened from crying too much. Lan Sizhui had taken the news harder than he thought. While Zewu Jun’s countenance indeed seemed to darken with despair, Sizhui had seemed stunned into stiff silence for some time, avoiding looking at anyone. 

But Zewu Jun noticed this too. He was the one who suggested Ziluan rest for a while as the two of them tried to think of some kind of solution, a way to heal him or to replace the life force of the bird with something else. Partly in shame at keeping it from them for so long, Ziluan reluctantly obeyed.

After only about ten minutes, Zewu Jun emerged alone. He took in a deep breath to settle himself, stretching his elegant form and showing his long white hair to greatly pleasing effect against the snow. He spotted Ziluan and managed a very subtle smile. 

Ziluan got to his feet and bowed. Zewu Jun approached and stood beside him, looking out over the snowy landscape beyond the Cloud Recesses. The elder Lan let out a heavy breath. 

“It has been very hard for you,” he said gently. 

Ziluan quickly shook his head. “Compared to the Clan Leader…Zewu Jun. I have always lived as I thought I should. I have very few regrets and no fear of a new form of being to come. If there is one thing I have learned in this past few months, it is that loss is most painful for those left behind.”

Zewu Jun nodded, closing his eyes. Rather playfully, but with deep love in his eyes, he asked, “No care for how losing you will hurt me too?”

Ziluan could not stop a fresh wave of tears from rolling one by one down his cheeks. He knew Zewu Jun thought of him as a grandson, but in many ways he was even more sparing in his shows of affection than Hanguang Jun had been. He felt both incredibly guilty at not having considered that Lan Xichen might really care for him, and filled with warmth and happiness at how lucky he was to still have family. 

“I’m sorry, Zewu Jun,” he whimpered, trying but failing to control his crying.

Xichen shook his head with a gentle smile. “I was half joking. I only want you to know, Ziluan, that you will always be loved. And the Cloud Recesses will always be a home for you, wherever you go and whatever you do.”

If it had been Yuyan who said such a thing to him, Ziluan was sure he would have thrown his arms around him and held him tightly. He could not manage quite so much boldness with the great Zewu Jun, but he nodded and hastily wiped his tears with his sleeves. 

Zewu Jun chuckled and produced a handkerchief to spare Ziluan’s now quite messy sleeves. Ziluan tried to control a new wave of tears at how gently Zewu Jun wiped away his tears. 

“Now,” Xichen said, with a slightly brighter tone. “I gather…from gaps here and there in what you told us just now, that it was more than the dire owl that caused you to leave Lotus Pier so suddenly.”

Ziluan helplessly clutched the edges of his sleeve, wanting an excuse to avoid this topic out of shame. But it was also incredibly hard keeping it in. He nodded. 

“May I presume it has something to do with Clan Leader Jiang?”

Ziluan finally managed to take a full breath without it being shaken by emotion. He looked down sadly at the snow as he wondered if he would ever see him again. 

“I told him…more or less how I felt. Or…he guessed,” Ziluan murmured softly. “But he said it’s impossible.”

“Did he?” Zewu Jun sounded surprised.

“Um…yes?” Ziluan replied with a question in his eyes.

Zewu Jun looked puzzled for a moment, bringing his knuckle under his chin in thought. “Oh…forgive me, it’s nothing. Continue.”

Ziluan shook his head. “There’s nothing else,” he lied only slightly, thinking it best not to tell Zewu Jun about the kiss. “I suppose there were times I thought…but no. Now I think it must have been my feelings confusing his actions for more than usual care, when I think for him, my existence has only ever hovered between shameful distraction and bother.”

Zewu Jun hid a small laugh behind his sleeve. Oddly, there was something about the warmth in his eyes as he looked at Ziluan in that moment that said he knew more than he was willing to say. “Your imagination has always tended toward the negative, Ziluan. Of course that makes you an excellent tactician. But perhaps hope is not such a bad thing.”

Ziluan purposefully tried to pretend he didn’t know what Zewu Jun meant by that. After all, there was no mistaking how severely Yuyan had rejected him. Hope, in this case, was only a gateway to pain. 

“Cangfeng Jun!” the voice of one of the gate disciples approaching in a rush. The disciple bowed to Zewu Jun and said, “Zewu Jun. Is Cangfeng Jun available?”

Zewu Jun showed brief hesitation. “What is the matter?” he asked instead of answering the question.

“There is a visitor at the gates.”

“Who is it?”

“She claims to be Lady Jin, Jin Lianyi.”

“Lady Jin?” Ziluan asked with amazement. 

“Has she given a reason for such a sudden visit?” Zewu Jun asked curiously.

The disciple shook his head. “She only asked to speak to Cangfeng Jun…or Lan Ziluan.”

Zewu Jun looked down at Ziluan with mild interest. “How curious,” he said, again seeming to know much more than he said. With a soft smile, he said, “Please invite her inside.”

“Zewu Jun…” Ziluan said softly. “Jin Lianyi was badly injured earlier today and lost much of her spiritual power. She should be recovering. I cannot think she would come here if it were not an emergency.”

Zewu Jun nodded tightly before directing Ziluan inside the study he had just left, where Lan Sizhui was still seated silently on his own. Zewu Jun explained the sudden intrusion, and though still seeming to be miles away, Sizhui agreed that they should meet with her.

A few minutes later, Jin Lianyi clasped her hands and bowed deeply before Cangfeng Jun and Zewu Jun, greeting each of them individually. When she rose, the small dots of red on the white bandage covering her eye were a painful reminder of what had just happened to her.

“My deepest apologies for disturbing you, Masters.”

“You are always welcome, Lady Jin,” Zewu Jun said graciously. “Will you sit for some tea?”

Jin Lianyi glanced at the table he indicated, with a tea pot ready, with an unreadable expression, but quickly shook her head. “You are very courteous. But…no matter the case, I should not linger.”

“You have some urgent business with me?” Sizhui asked, polite but somewhat cold. 

Ziluan glanced at him nervously. There was an unusual edge to his tone that he had never heard in his father’s voice before. What had been the result of his talk with Zewu Jun?

Lianyi nodded. “Forgive me, Cangfeng Jun. If I am worrying needlessly, I will accept appropriate punishment for having taken up your time. I…have just left Lotus Pier. And no one can seem to find any members of the Jiang family.”

All three Lan in the room stared at her, failing to understand at first. “Lady Jin…what exactly…?”

Jin Lianyi sighed, only barely containing her frustration by holding more tightly to her sword. “About an hour ago, I attempted to find Jiang Chenxi to speak with him about…an unrelated matter,” she muttered, and Ziluan was shocked to see a brief flush of red on her cheeks. “I searched the entire estate. I asked members of the clan, they searched as well. In the process, we discovered that not only Jiang Chenxi, but Hua Airong, Hua Baizhou and Clan Leader Jiang were missing as well. Again…if I am worrying needlessly I will accept the consequences. But given the recent attempts on Clan Leader Jiang’s life-”

Sizhui nodded, interrupting her. “You were right to be concerned.”

“But if they are not in Lotus Pier…”

The other three continued to talk worriedly about what to do, but Ziluan almost lost his breath. How could this have happened? It must have been only right after he left. Had the enemy attacked because he was gone? Had he sentenced Clan Leader Jiang to die because of his frivolous emotions?

“Ziluan!” 

He gasped and looked up quickly at Jin Lianyi, who had grasped his shoulder and was frowning down at him with worry. “Are you coming?”

Unable to voice his agreement, he nodded helplessly. 

“Lady Jin. You have ridden your sword all the way here,” Zewu Jun said softly. “Please save your strength and allow me to carry you on Shuoyue.”

Jin Lianyi’s eyebrow twitched slightly, as her pride would no doubt find such an offer difficult to accept. But Ziluan was sure she must be exhausted. “Please forgive the burden,” she mumbled with obviously reluctance.

Ziluan felt two warm and familiar hands clasp his shoulders, and he suddenly found himself under his father’s loving but worried gaze. “Ziluan…” he said, looking tormented. “…won’t you stay? In the Cloud Recesses?”

Ziluan’s chest nearly cracked in two at how softly pleading his father’s voice was. He looked down guiltily, wondering if there were really any excuse for making his father worry like this. 

“Mm,” Jin Lianyi murmured, shifting her jaw with discomfort. “I would agree, but…thus far, only Ziluan has been able to predict anything about this enemy. To leave him behind might be risking four lives instead of just one.”

An icy stare from Lan Sizhui rounded upon Jin Lianyi, who to her credit barely flinched under the powerful Lan clan leader’s gaze. But Zewu Jun nodded too. 

“Sizhui,” he said. “The key to Ziluan’s survival may be at the end of this road as well. And since he may be in danger either way, would you not rather he were under our protection?”

Though he seemed deeply displeased at being apparently outvoted, eventually this seemed to convince Sizhui. He also insisted on carrying Ziluan as Zewu Jun carried Jin Lianyi, and with that they flew directly back to Lotus Pier in search of what had happened.


	12. Resonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuyan's situation worsens as he discovers the source of Baizhou's rage, while Ziluan decides that the time to make his sacrifice has come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: some more violence in this chapter.  
> Note: the new character mentioned is Zai Lingse 宰灵瑟.

“Save me?” Yuyan growled, raising a vicious eyebrow. “Don’t misunderstand. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than close enough to ring your traitorous little neck.”

Baizhou gave him a bitter smile, even as he clearly only barely held back a scream of anger. “Traitorous? Did I ever owe any loyalty to you? If nothing else, you broke my sister’s heart and left her to raise a son on her own. Your arrogance is shocking.”

Yuyan rolled his eyes. “You know very well that she left me. Have you completely lost your mind?”

Baizhou scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation. “We’re not here to talk about A-Jie. And you won’t live long enough to find out the truth about her,” he muttered. He drew Caiwei and merely tapped the flat edge against Yuyan’s cheek while they both glowered at each other. “You’re here because of the one you killed.”

“Killed?” Yuyan repeated incredulously. All the while as they talked, he was racking his brains for a way out of this. His legs were probably the least of his worries. The fact that Baizhou had A-Jian and Airong hostage was the biggest. And the fact that his sword was gone and his hands bound certainly complicated things. Was there a way out? “I never killed anyone who didn’t have it coming.”

“Ha!” Baizhou let out a crazed laugh, staring down at Yuyan in disbelief. The swirling of the dire birds around them and the snapping rose-colored spiritual energy increased in intensity, becoming almost painfully oppressive. “So he deserved it? The purest, most innocent soul who ever lived, who raised magical birds only for the joy of it, for that he deserved to be torn apart?”

The word “birds” finally jogged Yuyan’s memory. He had forgotten because the birds that person had raised had been very different from these. A commoner but a close confidant and myrmidon of the Hua family. 

“…Zai…Lingse…?” Yuyan confirmed softly.

A sweet, if rather pathetic soul, barely able to form a golden core but with dreams of being a cultivator, serving and protecting his master, Hua Baizhou. Rather than the outright demonic path, he took to cultivating spirits inside animals: his beloved birds. But things went wrong. He was unable to control them. Yuyan happened to be closer than Airong at the time of a particular incident, so he and his myrmidons went to deal with it.

Several of the bird spirits had joined together and had started eating the flesh of larger and larger animals to increase their power. Rumors had started to spread among the Gusu farming community, and on one occasion the bird ghoul ate three whole cows, body and soul. Zai Lingse had already been badly bitten and scratched by his creation by the time Yuyan arrived, at the high mountain in Gusu where he had been cultivating. 

The bird ghoul became alerted to their presence and briefly fled. In the confusion, it managed to kill and eat one of Yuyan’s myrmidons. With this, it became even more powerful, and Yuyan instructed his myrmidons to back off so he could deal with it. At around that time, Yuyan vaguely remembered that Hua Baizhou arrived too, standing protectively in front of his myrmidon, Zai Lingse. But Baizhou had only just formed his own golden core at the time. He would be barely able to defend himself, Yuyan thought, much less someone else.

In the course of their battle, the bird ghoul quickly grew wary of Yuyan, and tried to dive for easy prey in order to make itself more powerful. The closest was Hua Baizhou. 

Yuyan did not think twice as he grabbed Baizhou by the collar and flew out of reach of the ghoul on Jiujiu. He could still remember the scream Baizhou let out, as it was not one of fear, but visceral horror. In the gap that Yuyan and Baizhou’s presence left, the bird had tackled and torn out Zai Lingse’s throat. It continued feasting on him.

But the process of eating left it vulnerable, and at that moment Yuyan was able to place a barrier around it. With the bird ghoul more or less trapped and rigid, he quickly set about releasing the souls it had eaten, one after another. Even the animals it had eaten deserved to be reborn, after all. The last to be released was that of Zai Lingse, who was briefly able to take a rattling breath as his soul returned to his body. 

“Lingse!” Baizhou wailed, collapsing beside him despite the danger of the bird ghoul not being completely averted yet. 

Zai Lingse could not speak, but Yuyan remembered that his last act was to gently hold his master’s face, as if comforting him. Yuyan had not thought much about the gesture at the time, except that it was typical of him and very sweet, given the circumstances. They must have shared a bond in a previous life, he thought. And then poor Lingse slipped away. 

Baizhou shook, then sobbed, then screamed. Yuyan still had to deal with the remaining resentful energy so he couldn’t much worry about Baizhou at the time. 

He understood perfectly well why Baizhou grew catatonic for a period of time following the incident. Because of how traumatic it was, he also didn’t notice that Baizhou’s attitude toward him changed as soon as he was able to speak again. But of course. Yuyan felt sorry for him, certainly, thinking he had lost a dear friend. But Yuyan never once considered that man’s death to be his fault.

But it turned out that Baizhou did. 

The young, gloomy cultivator glared down at Yuyan like a bug that needed to be crushed. “Don’t…you…dare…” he whispered. “…speak his name.”

Yuyan was still halfheartedly trying to think of a way out, but nothing was coming to him. The only thing he could think was that he might have a chance if Baizhou lost control and got close or careless enough for Yuyan to grab him and throttle him somehow. 

“…I didn’t kill him.”

Baizhou’s face twisted into an ugly, demonic snarl. He kicked Yuyan as hard as he could. Yuyan made a show of pain, but the difference in their body types was such that there was no major damage. Afterward, Baizhou grabbed him by the hair and shook him to make sure he was listening.

“Killed him, or let him die. A distinction without a difference,” Baizhou whispered. 

Yuyan coughed to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him and rasped, “So you spent all these years nursing the death of a myrmidon? Pathetic.”

Roiling rage made one half of Baizhou’s face twitch. Without warning, he slammed the hilt of Caiwei into Yuyan’s mouth. In that contest of strength, with the added force of Baizhou’s golden core and his spiritual weapon, Yuyan’s body could not win. 

Yuyan leaned forward in real pain this time and opened his mouth to let free the blood and the tooth that Baizhou had just knocked out. A-Jian let out a whimper from the corner.

This seemed to placate Baizhou for at least the present moment, and he straightened, looking down at the wounded Yuyan with satisfaction. But after only a moment, he came close again. To Yuyan’s surprise, he started undressing him. 

“You…what are you thinking?” Yuyan demanded, though had trouble articulating through the blood in his mouth.

“Well,” Baizhou said, his hands still shaking from anger but his voice forced to be calm. “First, let me correct a few misunderstandings. Then I’ll give you something to ease the pain, so you don’t die too quickly. And then…I’ll cut you. Piece by piece. Then maybe you’ll understand a fraction of the pain you’ve caused.”

He meant to kill him by lingchi? Yuyan’s eyes flicked over to the shivering and crying A-Jian in the corner. If this was how Yuyan was going to die, A-Jian couldn’t be here. It didn’t matter if Baizhou were caught, as he most certainly would be. That memory would never fade. 

“Let A-Jian go-“

“First,” Baizhou interrupted him loudly, grabbing him by the hair again. “You did kill him, as surely as I’m standing here. You and I are both equally culpable, since I also failed to save him.” His eyes lowered with despair at his own words, but he gathered himself for the sake of this revenge. “But you were the one who made the choice. I would have given my life for him. Why? Well…second,” Baizhou hissed, using Caiwei to slash through the remaining clothes on Yuyan’s upper body. “He was never my myrmidon.” 

Yuyan frowned up at him, not comprehending at first.

“Heh,” Baizhou let out a sickly laugh. “Of course you don’t understand. You don’t have the first idea what it feels like to love someone, do you, Jiang Cang?”

“You’re…a cut-sleeve?” Yuyan murmured in shock.

Baizhou barked out a laugh and even shook his head in disbelief. “Of course, that is the part you would be most shocked by, isn’t it? Be shocked all you like, Clan Leader Jiang. I’m sending you into hell with the most sacred knowledge in the world: Zai Lingse was the greatest person who ever lived. I loved him…I loved him. And if not for you…he would still be alive!”

With that, suddenly Baizhou shoved a thickly sweet-smelling cloth over Yuyan’s nose and mouth. The surprise and sudden constriction of his airway caused him to inhale quickly, which unfortunately was the worst thing he could have done. He still could barely breathe with Baizhou’s hand and the cloth practically smothering him, and now that thick, sweet-smelling drug had invaded his lungs. 

The effects were almost instantaneous. Yuyan’s head spun. His whole body felt numb and tingling, while his mind grew sluggish. Everything seemed to dance before his eyes, noises echoing and colors blending into each other. He slumped forward, blood still dripping softly from his mouth, as soon as Baizhou released him. And from that point on, as Baizhou began to systematically slice into his flesh, Yuyan could not have even answered if someone asked him his own name.

…

While the others searched the compound, along with the Jiang clan members, Ziluan stood helplessly before Yuyan’s quarters, unable to move. There was a vast, yawning sense of emptiness before him. It made him instinctively afraid. He would not have even noticed it if he had not come straight to the last place he had seen Yuyan, because of course they were all searching for sources of spiritual energy, either Yuyan’s or an enemy’s. And this void before him, whatever it was, was the opposite of energy.

Jin Lianyi spotted him and jogged over to join him. “Ziluan,” she said, with unusual softness for her. She didn’t even call him “Lord Cut-Sleeve.” “What are you thinking?”

Ziluan slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.”

She followed his gaze and frowned at the chamber. “Is there something in there?”

“I…I can’t be certain. Something is wrong. But…I don’t want to open it.”

Lianyi’s brows twitched together with worry as she watched the building too. She nodded. “It feels creepy. It didn’t feel like that this morning.”

Zewu Jun and Cangfeng Jun seemed to have noticed the two staring and came over to join them as well. “Ziluan…what is it?” asked Sizhui kindly as he approached.

Ziluan’s chest ached, with worry and fear, and also anticipated pain. “In my mind, I’m sure, I have to go in there,” he said quietly. “But there’s something…just thinking about it makes my blood run cold. I think…if I go in, I won’t-“

“Sizhui,” Zewu Jun said suddenly. He had just cast a string of spiritual energy toward the door to check if there was a ward around it, and though they could not see it, the edge of his energy was sucked inside and instantly shredded. “It’s here,” he said, only showing the pain through a mild tightening of his facial expression.

“What is it?” Sizhui asked worriedly.

Zewu Jun looked down at his hand as if it had been struck, although he knew of course it was only his energy that was injured. He shook his head. “I have never encountered something like this before. It has the aura of death, but no energy of any kind. It is not a soul-stealer, but a nothing-maker. An energy void of some kind.”

Lianyi took in a sharp breath. “Then…anyone inside…”

Zewu Jun sighed. “I think Ziluan’s instinct is correct. It may only be a barrier. No matter the case, we must try to break it.”

Zewu Jun met eyes with Sizhui, who nodded. Sizhui produced his guqin, Zewu Jun his xiao. Together they began to play a fast-paced, macabre melody. Their combined spiritual energy, applied with a ferocious force that the two of them hardly ever revealed, was overwhelming. Ziluan felt afraid both by their power and by what they were facing, in spite of his great trust and faith in both of them.

But even as the powerful melody drew to a close, there was no sign of any change in the building. Instead, Lan Xichen and Lan Sizhui only began to look more and more exhausted. It was draining everything they threw at it. Jin Lianyi saw this and gritted her teeth in frustration. 

As the melody ended and the two great cultivators caught their breath from the exertion, she drew her sword. “It’s clearly impervious to spiritual attacks,” she said. 

Zewu Jun grasped her arm, shaking his head. “I fear…your sword would go the same way as our energy…”

“Well what is there to do then?!”

“I think…I can get in.”

All three faces turned to look at Ziluan, who was holding a hand over his chest and experimentally tugging at the spiritual energy of the owl in his heart. 

“I can feel…it’s hard to describe. A kind of resonance,” he said, and as he did, he was able to pulse the energy in the owl in rhythm with his own heart, somehow echoing a rhythm inside the chamber. “I believe…if I give this back, it will produce a small opening.”

“No,” Sizhui said loudly, almost the moment Ziluan finished speaking. His unusually harsh voice seemed to echo over the evening scene in Lotus Pier, and with it, the heavy silence sunk into their hearts as they all realized his objection. 

“Giving it back” would mean giving up the one force keeping Ziluan’s crushed heart beating. 

“No,” Sizhui said again with even more volume, before Ziluan even opened his mouth to protest.

Though she bit her lip until it bled, Lianyi cried, “Well then what’s your idea, Cangfeng Jun?!”

Sizhui closed his eyes to try and control his emotions. But the result was that his next words emerged with chilling heartlessness, “To give all due respect and deference to the Jiang family, try our best to save them – without risking more lives – and, if that is impossible, mourn their loss afterward.”

“…let them die?” Lianyi hissed in disbelief.

“Sizhui…” Zewu Jun cautioned softly.

“What…kind of a clan leader are you?!” Lianyi demanded with gathering rage. “Can you be so cowardly and selfish you would not risk one life to save four?!”

With ice in every aspect of his appearance, Sizhui stared directly at her and said simply, “Even if there were any hope for them…I would feed ten thousand like them to a monster by my own hand before I let harm befall my son.”

“Sizhui,” Zewu Jun said with unusual harshness. He faced his nephew and spoke in such a quiet voice that no one else could hear what he said. Whatever it was, Sizhui’s eyes lowered with shame when he was done. 

Zewu Jun looked hard at the ground as he seemed to need to reorder his thoughts. “To replace such a being’s function inside Ziluan’s heart…we would need something of equal power.” And though it seemed to pain him to say it, he concluded quietly, “A soul.”

Sizhui’s head lifted and he opened his mouth to speak, but Zewu Jun raised a hand to stop him.

“It cannot be done quickly,” the elder Lan said with soft despair, slowly lowering his hand. “Your instinct is noble, Sizhui. But neither of us knows anything about cultivating ghouls. We would have to create a new talisman, which would require trial and error, as well as training with smaller souls first. There is no time.”

“But…it’s all right,” Ziluan said, but no one paid attention to him. 

“They might be dying right now!” Lianyi cried.

“And they may already be dead,” Sizhui shot back, only barely holding back his volume. “Or perfectly fine, or not here at all. And since we don’t know, don’t you dare suggest risking my son’s life again, Jin Lianyi.”

“Sizhui, control,” Zewu Jun muttered.

“I really don’t mind-“ Ziluan tried again.

“Are you really that self-centered?” Lianyi demanded, managing to maintain her anger despite a reasonable fear of Cangfeng Jun. “They go missing and this void appears the last place anyone saw one of them. It was no more than an hour ago, so simple logic says they’re here and they’re most likely still alive! Are you really willing to kill off an entire family of your peers just for your own convenience?!”

“Until you have a child of your own, do not speak to me of convenience!” Sizhui roared.

“Father, Zewu Jun…I love you.”

Both Lan elders gasped in shock at the softly spoken words from right in front of Jiang Yuyan’s door. And then Ziluan was sucked inside.


	13. Frost and Dew

Strangely, Ziluan still felt no pain at first, even as he was sucked inside the barrier. Instead of pain from the initial wound, the first thing he felt was cold. Then burning in his lungs and dimness in his mind as his blood slowed throughout his body, as his heart could no longer beat. 

He was only conscious long enough to catch a glimpse of the scene. Hua Baizhou was staring at him in utter disbelief and even a trace of horror. With one hand, he held Yuyan’s arm in place. With the other, he dragged cut after cut of flesh from Yuyan’s skin. Tied in the corner, trembling and crying was Jiang Chenxi. And lying down motionless with a head wound, Hua Airong. 

After his own horror at the sight, Ziluan merely asked the question of Baizhou with his eyes: Why?

But then he crumpled to his knees. With his last moments of strength, he managed to draw his sword and shove it across the ground toward Jiang Chenxi. Then things went dark.

“No…no!” A sobbing voice, from someone who had caught him as he fell. To his surprise, it sounded like Baizhou’s voice. “Not you…why…? Why is it you? Lan Ziluan…”

Ziluan struggled to open his eyes, but even when he did, he could barely see. His brain was shutting down. Had his sacrifice been pointless? Their only chance was Chenxi, and he would be no match for his uncle, apparently a dark beast master. At least he was able to extend Yuyan’s life for a short time.

Ziluan felt himself slip down into a dark, dark place. There was utter dark and utter silence in a way he had never experienced before. But he was not afraid. He felt as if pulled along in a current at the bottom of the ocean. He didn’t know what this place was, but part of him knew he was always destined to come here eventually. It was dark, it was lonely, but it was not without its own energy. He let go, allowing himself drift along. 

But in the darkness, a sad voice. “I can’t…again…” said the soft voice, and Ziluan felt it was meant only for him. Though he wanted to move on, he strained to listen. “I can’t lose someone again. You’re so good, Lan Ziluan…Lan Ning…the world is brighter with you in it. You must not forget that.”

Moments later, Ziluan felt warmth spread across his body, beginning in his chest. He took in a breath of surprise before he even realized he could breathe again. He knew this feeling in abstraction, but he didn’t know it was possible to feel it physically. It was love. 

Ziluan took a deep, shuddering breath as his body tingled with blood extending back into his limbs. He clapped a hand over his chest in surprise as soon as he could move well. His chest was still tingling with warmth, even though his wound from before remained. He let out a soft sigh, not understanding but incredibly grateful. It was similar to how he’d felt when Yuyan kissed him. Warm, tender, and somehow sacred.

“Ziluan! Help me, please…!”

Ziluan gasped with the realization that they were not out of danger. 

He got up with some difficulty, and had another shock as he saw a body face-down on the ground before him. It was Baizhou. He wasn’t moving. 

But the larger concern was the gradually increasing intensity of the circle of birds over their heads, as Baizhou’s rose-colored spiritual energy faded and stopped controlling them. Chenxi had managed to cut the ropes binding him and his father with Suifeng and was fruitlessly holding it before the swirling mass of black above him. Ziluan got to his feet as soon as he could and tried to think. 

A ward. Baizhou had suggested a ward when they found his secret base. Assuming that wasn’t somehow a lie too, why would a barrier be effective when suppressing magic failed to work? Ziluan’s hand unconsciously reached for his chest as he tried to read into Baizhou’s thinking.

He gasped. Of course. Wards did not emit energy on their own, but instead drew it from the cultivator and the surrounding environment like a natural element. This inherently energy-negative state would make it just as solid for these terrifying birds as it was for them. Without a second thought, Ziluan sat down and produced his guqin. 

“Young Master Jiang,” he said loudly. “I won’t be able to slow them all, or for more than a few moments. If you can’t make wards quickly, you’ll have to learn now. All right?”

Chenxi looked terrified, but he swallowed and nodded. 

He did not wait as Ziluan started to play to dash around the edges of the space where the five people lay, using Suifeng to cut a magic circle directly into the floor. Ziluan did not have the presence of mind at the time to be impressed with his drawing skills at such a young age. He concentrated all his energy on slowing and softening the energy of the birds all around them. 

He had thought this the previous time as well, but perhaps because the birds recognized something familiar about him, they listened to his music when they had not to Lan Xichen or Lan Sizhui’s. He still could not possibly slow them all, so in the end, none of them escaped a bite or scratch from their talons. 

Chenxi completed the circle with a last flick of Suifeng, then clapped his hands down onto it in order to send spiritual energy through it. A rose-colored array appeared over their heads, forcing the birds back. Ziluan took a breath and placed his hands over the strings of his guqin to stop them vibrating. 

“Now what?” Chenxi asked.

Ziluan looked down at his own hand. He flexed it cautiously. As he thought, something felt strange. He glanced down toward the motionless body of Baizhou on the ground. He couldn’t help gingerly touching the wound on his chest as he started to realize what had happened. 

“…now,” Ziluan murmured softly. “A bit of grace.”

He experimentally held out his hand, just outside the protection of the ward. The edges of his fingers glowed with both gold and rose-colored spiritual energy. Sure enough, a single dire bird came and alighted on his outstretched fingers. Ziluan had no idea how to do this, but he hoped his soul would know. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on dissipating the vengeful will in his hand.

Souls of smaller animals flew from the dire bird one after another until the creature was reduced to rotting flesh and bones, as in reality it always was. As soon as it was released from Ziluan’s control, the remnants of its body turned to all but dust and scattered. 

“How did you do that?!” Chenxi asked in amazement.

Ziluan’s chest ached as the pieces fell together. “Please help your father, Master Jiang,” he said quietly.

He called another bird to him and repeated the process. It took over an hour to set free all the souls inside the dire birds. By then Ziluan was exhausted, and Chenxi again starting to panic as he realized both his parents needed proper medical care which he could not provide. When the last bird joined the pile of dust and bones in front of Ziluan, he crumpled to his knees. 

Chenxi’s strength ran out too, and he dropped the ward. Immediately they were joined by Zewu Jun, Cangfeng Jun and Lady Jin, who went straight to Yuyan and started feeding him spiritual energy. She glanced at Chenxi and murmured that he had done well, which caused the younger boy to blush. 

Lan Sizhui nearly crushed Ziluan in a merciless hug. “I won’t forgive you,” he whispered, “for making an old man worry so much.”

Guilt made Ziluan unable to respond at first. He rested his forehead gratefully against his father’s firm shoulder, but he couldn’t even bear to lift his hands to return his embrace. And then it all seemed to have been a bit too much, and he lost consciousness before he realized it. 

…

Ziluan, as it turned out, slept through the night and woke as usual at five the next morning. It was an immense relief to wake up to the soft pink sky and warm, moist air of Yunmeng. He had been worried his family would take him home after the incident. But no matter the case, he had to know Yuyan was all right.

He swung his feet out of bed and started to get dressed. His fingers slowed as they began to fasten his outer robe. Not because it felt strange to be wearing Lan white again in Lotus Pier, although it did. But because even after such an ordeal, he felt no pain. On the contrary, he felt full of life. He knew instinctively that such a thing could not be possible without terrible sacrifice.

He went straight to Yuyan’s quarters before realizing they probably would have moved him somewhere else. As he approached, he could see gaps of light peeking through broken parts of the walls and roof. He shivered slightly at the memory of that terrifying wall of birds. 

He also noticed that there were a few drops of blood, which he would later find out were from Hua Airong, leading up to the door. He did not think it wise to open the door, but he couldn’t help but picture the horrific sight he had seen when he first entered this place yesterday. He had never thought he would see Jiang Yuyan looking so helpless and broken. It made him afraid even to think of it. 

“Ziluan?”

His father’s voice. He turned and saw Lan Sizhui walking toward him, with a controlled look of disapproval. 

“Clan Leader,” he said respectfully.

“How are you feeling?” Sizhui asked after a pause.

“I’m very well. I’m just worried about…”

Even though he trailed off, Sizhui closed his eyes with a soft sigh. “Clan Leader Jiang has been moved to a guest room.”

Ziluan would normally expect his kind and polite father to have shown him directly to where Yuyan was, but the older man paused with a heavy silence, his gaze strictly trained to the ground. After a moment of thought, Ziluan realized that even if he were still a Jiang myrmidon, he had no right to request to see Clan Leader Jiang, especially when he was healing. He lowered his gaze too. 

“Is he…?”

Sizhui nodded. “His doctors say there will likely be no lasting damage. The wounds Hua Baizhou made were painful, but not deep. It is possible they will heal without noticeable scars.”

Ziluan shuddered, instantly picturing Baizhou’s sword cutting into Yuyan’s flesh. How could there be no lasting damage from that? 

Sizhui seemed to be watching Ziluan carefully. After a moment, he said, “I believe we should not expect any servants to be awake yet. We can discuss the matter in more detail after some breakfast.”

Ziluan nodded obediently. The two Lan men made their way to a smaller kitchen and wordlessly prepared for themselves and ate a simple breakfast of rice porridge and tea. When they finished eating and were drinking their tea, Ziluan cautiously asked for more details.

Sizhui explained what they had learned from Jiang Chenxi about Hua Baizhou’s motive, and the sad story of Zai Lingse. What happened after that, Chenxi had not understood from watching and Sizhui admitted was his own speculation.

“I had discussed the matter with Zewu Jun when we asked you to leave my study yesterday,” Sizhui said softly. “We had both come to the conclusion that a sacrifice would be necessary to save you. It was of course against Lan precepts to do such a thing, and I had decided to abandon the clan in order to perform the necessary experiments and sacrifice my own soul. I had been in the process of deciding how to transfer control of the clan back to Zewu Jun when Lady Jin arrived.”

Too much information had come all at once in such soft words from his normally taciturn father. Ziluan was frozen in shock. How could such a horrible thing have been taking place without his knowledge? Ziluan considered his father to be the embodiment of everything the Lan stood for. He secretly believed him to be a perfect human being. To hear him talk of casting off all of that without a thought, after a mere ten minutes of discussion with Zewu Jun, was almost impossible to accept. 

Deep down, Ziluan felt his heart squeezed badly with the realization that his father had been prepared to sacrifice not only his soul, but every ideal he ever cared about in order to keep him alive.

“Father…” he murmured softly. “I’m very sorry to have caused you so much worry.”

Sizhui nodded while he kept his gaze on his tea. Eventually he continued, “Though it is impossible to be certain from Jiang Chenxi’s account, it seems the one to save you in the end was Hua Baizhou.”

Ziluan’s stomach seemed to sink even further as his suspicion was confirmed. “But…why?”

Sizhui initially shook his head to indicate he didn’t know either, but then he paused in thought. “I wonder…if he might have idolized you somehow.”

“Me?” Ziluan laughed lightly. “What for?”

“You are aware of your own reputation, are you not?” Sizhui asked matter-of-factly. Ziluan blushed, but nodded. “From everything I have heard so far, while there are many in the world who still disapprove of cut-sleeves, the Hua family seems to have been especially strict on the matter. Hua Baizhou grew up having to hide who he was. To him, your existence might have seemed like an unrealistic ideal. Or maybe even hope. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to think of a world without that hope in it.”

At Sizhui’s words, Ziluan suddenly remembered the last ones that Hua Baizhou had said to him: ‘The world is brighter with you in it. You must not forget that.’ He wanted to cry, but for the first time in his life, he strangely felt too sad to cry. He wanted to speak to Baizhou. Even knowing what he had done, it didn’t seem fair that he was simply gone, leaving behind a thousand words unsaid and a debt Ziluan could never repay.

Sizhui was watching him dubiously. “Ziluan,” he said in a hard tone. “It was his bird that first harmed you. Do not feel sorry for him.”

Ziluan held back from pointing out that that attack had also been intended for Jiang Yuyan. He simply nodded. 

“There is no need to stay in Yunmeng any longer,” Sizhui said, setting down his finished cup of tea. “We should return to the Cloud Recesses as soon as Zewu Jun is ready.”

Ziluan felt crushed to realize he could not see that Clan Leader Jiang was well. But he had his father’s assurance that he would be all right. More importantly, his guilt at having worried his family so much stopped his tongue from any objection. Slowly, he nodded. He got up to clean up after them, in the end leaving the kitchen cleaner than when they had started.

Zewu Jun, who rarely ate breakfast properly, had apparently been passing the time by having a walk by the water. When Sizhui and Ziluan found him, he smiled as he asked if this was the place where Sizhui had come up with Ziluan’s given name. Sizhui strangely flushed bright red. Ziluan quickly experienced much more shock than he had in all the astounding things up until now: what could possibly make his father blush?

Sizhui cleared his throat. “Are you ready to return to Gusu, Zewu Jun?”

Zewu Jun nodded with a chuckle. The three generations of Lan took to the air and flew back to the Cloud Recesses like three fast-moving clouds, leaving no trace of their presence.

…

A week passed in peace in the Cloud Recesses. It was the most beautiful point between winter and spring, when some mornings one chanced to see patterns of frost melting from fresh blooms, in an intermittent concert of dew drop rain that sparkled in the sunlight. Ziluan appreciated it more than ever in relief to be home, yet not without flickers of deep sadness.

Each breath was a reminder of the way he had been unable to help someone who badly needed…even just to be seen. Who deserved to be accepted for who he was, as everyone did. And who had suffered more than almost anyone Ziluan knew, in silence and alone. Though he knew revenge only ever succeeded in harming the self and could not condone it, everything about Hua Baizhou had moved his heart, and he couldn’t help missing him.

The rest…Ziluan tried not to think about. He should have known from the start that having feelings for someone like Jiang Yuyan was destined to lead him only to pain. That one kiss was probably more than many people ever experienced with someone they truly loved, much less a first love. He told himself that life was long. He would meet someone else. But the Lan tended to be both romantic and single-minded to the point of obsession. He thought it best to not set his hopes too firmly on either outcome.

On the morning of the seventh day since he had last seen Lotus Pier, he spotted a tall figure in purple, standing out flamboyantly against the familiar green beyond the walkway surrounding the inner disciples’ sleeping quarters. His heart skipped. 

He stood awkwardly for some time, watching the figure as he seemed deeply engaged in admiring the touches of frost dripping down from a high wisteria, cascading down from among evergreen trees. Ziluan felt a little like crying at how much Jiang Yuyan resembled a mountain wisteria blooming among evergreens, which were beautiful on their own but seemed only dull and lifeless in comparison to him. The idea of having feelings for anyone else seemed utterly hopeless. 

He approached hesitantly, but prepared to sneak out of sight if it appeared he was in fact here to seek someone else, Cangfeng Jun or Zewu Jun for example. But if so, what would he be doing in this part of the complex? And why so early in the morning? Wasn’t he still recovering from his injuries?

Yuyan seemed alerted to his presence and slowly turned his head to look at him. He showed no reaction to seeing Ziluan again. But Ziluan’s breath caught, not just at being able to see his face again. He had not noticed in all the confusion, but part of Hua Baizhou’s torture had also involved cuts to Yuyan’s face. 

Two scars were hard to ignore. One extended from the side of Yuyan’s nose, across both lips and almost to his chin. Another crossed his nose under his eye. Ziluan felt equal parts pity as he felt a strange thrill, thinking that bizarrely Yuyan looked more handsome than ever. But it was hard not to imagine how much that must have hurt, and how he would feel seeing those scars in the mirror every day.

“C-…Clan Leader,” Ziluan managed softly. Belatedly, and from a slightly awkward distance still, he clasped his hands and bowed. 

When he rose, Yuyan was actually raising an eyebrow at him. His eyes flicked down to the distance between them sardonically. Ziluan had to resist the urge to smile, as he was embarrassed but felt it wouldn’t be appropriate to come any closer unless asked. 

Yuyan eventually seemed to understand this and cast his gaze down in thought for a moment. Eventually he said, “Do you have time for a short walk?”

“…if I would be acceptable company. Certainly.”

Ziluan joined Yuyan to stroll around the less trafficked areas of the Cloud Recesses. Some disciples still looked oddly at them as they passed, but Yuyan could not have gotten in without Cangfeng Jun’s permission, so Ziluan assumed it was all right. It took Yuyan a while to form the words he wanted before he eventually spoke.

“I didn’t really understand most of it, but A-Jian told me you did well.”

Ziluan chuckled to hide his embarrassment. “That’s…somehow being praised for anything on that day doesn’t feel right.”

“Nothing was your fault,” Yuyan said firmly. 

Ziluan hesitantly looked away. “If I hadn’t…”

“As I’ve told you many times,” Yuyan supplied, when he trailed off. “I’m not so delicate that I need a junior cultivator’s protection. For all we know, nothing would have changed from you being there, except Baizhou would have had three hostages instead of two. Hypotheticals about things like that are just a quagmire. Don’t bother.”

Ziluan eventually managed a nod to acknowledge this sentiment. “How are your wounds, Clan Leader Jiang?”

“Healed. I can only think he wasn’t really trying. Or he was just a coward.”

Ziluan held back things he wanted to say, feeling conflicted. “It…would be understandable if invisible scars remain, even if the physical ones heal,” he said carefully. He didn’t notice Yuyan flinch slightly at these words, his eyes cast down. “He subdued you, and your entire family. He could have done anything. I am certain I would not forget the fear of such an experience quickly. I hope you will not force yourself, Clan Leader Jiang.” 

Yuyan seemed lost in thought for a few moments. Eventually he said, with uncharacteristic softness, “Who doesn’t have a few scars?”

Ziluan glanced at him with worry, but once again had to agree with the sentiment. He nodded. 

“Suddenly I sympathize with Jin Lianyi,” Yuyan muttered, seemingly to himself.

“Hm?” Ziluan asked curiously. 

Yuyan glanced at him before shaking his head dismissively. “Never mind. I shouldn’t tarry here all day. Best to get the hard thing over quickly.”

Ziluan’s heart filled with fear. He could hardly imagine this could be so, but had Yuyan come here only to reject him again? But why? Surely the last one was final enough. Ziluan hadn’t stepped out of line since then, had he? He barely even allowed himself to think about him. What could he have done wrong?

“…hard thing…?” Ziluan murmured, barely able to muster any volume in his voice.

Yuyan nodded. “I’m here to right a wrong, and get my heart broken.”

“Eh?” Ziluan exclaimed in an undignified voice.

After closing his eyes with an expression of controlled regret, Yuyan turned a warm and gentle gaze on Ziluan. Despite the warmth he was sure he felt under Yuyan’s gaze at that moment, there was a trace of pain in the older man’s expression as he looked down at him. 

“The wrong I did…was to tell you I could never be with you. It was cruel. And it was a lie,” Yuyan said softly, each word less believable to Ziluan. “I said it because I thought I was protecting you. I thought there was no way your feelings for an old man with a bad temper could be genuine. Certainly not healthy. But then when you said you wouldn’t stay with me…I hated it. And I realized I probably made you feel a lot worse.”

Yuyan took a difficult breath, casting his eyes down once again. His hand reached up unconsciously to trace the line of the scar on his mouth. His expression twisted. He quickly lowered his hand, seeming conscious of Ziluan’s gaze.

“Even when I had a whole face, I still wasn’t worth your attention, Ziluan. And I know seeing something like that probably disgusted you. Scared you. I understand. I only came to tell you…that if my words hurt you, they weren’t true. And you should tell me to get lost, but you shouldn’t ever feel lacking or unwanted. You’re…”

Yuyan frowned hard, seeming to really struggle to find the appropriate word. “…good,” he supplied eventually, with a look of dissatisfaction. 

Ziluan was honestly confused by most of this, but he still felt tears rising to his eyes. “I’m sorry…Clan Leader Jiang,” he said softly. “Can you clarify? Which words were untrue?”

Yuyan closed his eyes. “Could you just get it over with? I was a hard enough sell without a madman’s sword marks all over my face. I don’t even want to talk about how much courage it took to come here looking like this.”

“I…!” Ziluan began helplessly, and before he realized it he was clinging onto Yuyan’s robes, shocking the older man with the sudden closeness. “Clan Leader…please speak more precisely. Are you saying you have feelings for me?”

Yuyan didn’t answer, keeping his gaze firmly trained away from Ziluan. But pain flickered between his eyes. 

“Clan Leader…?” Ziluan whispered.

Yuyan closed his eyes as he took a steadying breath. Carefully, he placed his hands over Ziluan’s, holding them to his chest. Ziluan’s heart felt ready to explode at how much like lovers this gesture was. 

With his eyes still closed, Yuyan began, “I solved the mystery of why Airong left me. I didn’t understand love.” Gradually, he opened his eyes and graced Ziluan with the full intensity of his wolfish countenance, tinged with pain but also almost tangible sweetness. “I’m not sure exactly when I did. Or if I do now. But since meeting you, at least I know in which direction it lies.”

The way he gazed deeply into Ziluan’s eyes as he said this made Ziluan’s heart break and reform about a hundred times in the span of a single breath. But as soon as he said it, Yuyan’s gaze was already starting to lower again in despair.

“Quickly,” he said, but his tone was still gentle. “If you don’t tell me to get lost, I won’t be able to let go.”

Ziluan was so overwhelmed with feeling that he had trouble filling his lungs. He helplessly let his weight rest against Yuyan’s chest, filled with gratitude when Yuyan not only didn’t push him away, but squeezed his hands. Ziluan broke one hand free in order to clasp Yuyan’s cheek in his hand and look up at him with even a fraction of the devotion in his heart. 

“I love you,” he said simply. While he was struggling to express it more clearly, he supplied, “And your scars make you more handsome, not less.”

Yuyan watched him carefully, moved but apparently not yet convinced. “You know I have a trash personality though, right?”

Ziluan’s face broke out in a joyful smile. “My second favorite thing about you.”

“Yeah, you psycho?” Yuyan grumbled. “What’s your favorite then?”

Ziluan wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him, nuzzling against his chest. He nodded toward the center. “This.”

“…my pecs?”

Ziluan snorted with laughter, but quickly shook his head. “The inside part.”

Yuyan eventually let out a heavy sigh, reluctantly setting a hand on top of Ziluan’s head and ruffling his hair in exasperation. “Don’t toy with your elders’ feelings,” he grumbled.

“How should I express it then?”

Yuyan shook his head and rolled his eyes. But reluctantly he frowned down at Ziluan as if not sure what to do with him. His gaze softened as Ziluan smiled broadly up at him, and even caressed his cheek with the backs of his fingers. 

“However you want. I’m sorry for complaining,” he said, so softly Ziluan barely heard him. 

This finally melted Ziluan’s heart completely, and he stood up on his toes to place a soft and pleading kiss against Yuyan’s lips. Yuyan looked tortured when Ziluan caught his gaze afterward. After seeming to fight with himself for just a moment longer, he cradled Ziluan’s head in his hand and dipped in close to return his entreating kiss with another. Ziluan’s fingers curled against Yuyan’s hard back as warmth flooded his body. It was hard to stay standing. The very gentleness of Yuyan’s kisses sent electricity up his spine, filling him with both satisfaction and desire. 

Yuyan eventually seemed conscious of their surroundings and pulled away, but they both stayed close, holding each other covetously as if afraid the other would fly away. Yuyan’s eyes flicked up to Ziluan’s forehead. 

“Oh…it’s out of place,” he muttered, and without hesitation reached his fingertips under Ziluan’s bangs to right his headband. Ziluan’s heart pounded at how casually something so important had been touched. But he didn’t hate it. “I’ve been meaning to ask, it’s mentioned so much in your precepts but doesn’t really explain how weird you all are about this thing. Am I missing something?”

Ziluan chuckled, but inside he felt so happy he could fly. He picked up the end of his long headband and toyed with it for a moment before taking Yuyan’s hand in his, and clasping the headband between them. 

“I can tell you…if there comes a day you are certain you know what love is, and decide to share it only with me, forever. Until then, spare me my blushes,” he requested with a warm smile.

Yuyan nodded, seeming moved. “Then let me figure it out a while longer. In Yunmeng.”

“Both of us?”

Yuyan rolled his eyes exhaustedly. “You thought I meant by myself? Yes. Both of us. You and me. You, stay with me in Yunmeng. And…at minimum…give me one kiss per day.”

Ziluan could not hold back a joyous grin. “I’ve never known you to be so demanding, Clan Leader Jiang.”

“Problem?”

Ziluan shook his head. “Only kissing?” he asked boldly.

Yuyan growled. “I just admitted to another living human being that I’m a cut-sleeve. How much will you mess with my equilibrium before you’re satisfied?”

In answer, Ziluan placed a kiss against Yuyan’s cheek. Yuyan gazed at him in seeming wonder for a moment. Without a word, he returned the gesture.


	14. Extra: The Wrath of Sizhui

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiang Yuyan seeks Lan Sizhui's approval.

Ziluan was growing dizzy. He had only been kissing Yuyan for a few moments, but his head was in whirl. Equal parts of him wanted the moment never to end, and for Yuyan to carry him straight back to his bedroom in Yunmeng. But then suddenly, even in the midst of these achingly pleasant feelings, Ziluan got a sinking feeling. He remembered where they were. 

Yuyan had already pulled Ziluan off out of sight of the main pathways, so the two were embracing with Ziluan’s back against a wall and Yuyan arched down over him like a bent willow tree, mostly concealing him from view. But anyone who looked closely would see Ziluan’s body enveloped by Yuyan’s, in a posture that would be difficult to explain as anything other than what it was. And if anyone did see that, they might tell the one person to whom this news must be broken gently.

“Ehem.”

The two lovers froze instantly as if a cold wind had blown through them. Though he was facing the opposite direction, and neither had even noticed him approach, not fifteen feet away from them stood possibly the second worst person who could have found them this way. Zewu Jun’s long white hair floated in the gentle spring breeze as he held his tall back facing them, his hands clasped behind it. If Ziluan’s heart were not already crushed, he might have had a heart attack. 

Ziluan quickly slid out from Yuyan’s embrace and stood in front of the Jiang clan leader to bow deeply. “Z-…Zewu Jun…” he murmured contritely.

“…Zewu Jun,” Yuyan quietly copied the gesture half a beat later, though he didn’t seem half as concerned as Ziluan. 

Zewu Jun eventually took in a refreshing breath, seeming to be enjoying the scenery as he kept his back to them. For a long time, he didn’t speak. Both Ziluan and Yuyan were too intimidated by him to break the silence, so they all waited in the brisk spring morning light together.

Finally, Zewu Jun’s head lowered slightly, his eyes cast down. “Poor Master Wei. He always did like to rush ahead just a little too fast.”

Ziluan’s lips parted in surprise and a flicker of pain at the mention of Wei Wuxian. But beyond that, he started to feel a burst of hesitant joy at what Lan Xichen might be implying. Did he mean that, if he had lived a little longer, Wei Wuxian would be happy to see this development? Was he giving a tacit approval?

Finally, Zewu Jun turned to face them with a gentle smile that might just have been tinged with some dew against his white eyelashes. Still, he cautioned, “Each thing in its proper time, Ziluan. Before you prostrate before the heavens and earth, at the very least, Clan Leader Jiang will likely need to prostrate before Sizhui.”

After a heavy moment of silence, in which Ziluan grew gradually more and more overjoyed, Yuyan’s expression gradually soured into one of deep depression. He made a loud noise of reluctance even as Ziluan finally lost control of his happiness and gently held Zewu Jun in gratitude. 

“Zewu Jun…” Ziluan cried helplessly, almost laughing out loud with joy. Zewu Jun chuckled and placed a comforting hand on Ziluan’s shoulder.

“Nnnnh,” Yuyan groaned into his hand, which was covering his face. “How could I have forgotten about Cangfeng Jun? It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for. He’s going to skewer and roast me, and he’ll be drinking tea while he does it.”

“Killing is forbidden inside the Cloud Recesses,” Zewu Jun assured him, possibly a little too ready with that excuse.

“He was willing to break all your precepts and give up his own life just for a chance to save Ziluan’s. You think he’d bat an eyelash about killing me, who he doesn’t even like?” Yuyan asked flatly.

Both Zewu Jun and Lan Ziluan were awkwardly silent for far too long for Yuyan to feel any better about the situation. But eventually Zewu Jun offered a light chuckle. “All things in their proper time. While Sizhui does on occasion hold on to resentment, he is open to persuasion, especially if done with care. In this case, it is much better to ask for permission than forgiveness.”

Yuyan scoffed. “Because forgiveness is something we won’t get from him.”

Zewu Jun bowed his head with a reluctant nod.

“Then let me tell him,” Ziluan said quickly. Zewu Jun had begun to nod when Yuyan interjected.

“No, I’m the one who needs to break the wave of his anger,” Yuyan said with firm determination in his dark eyes. “One thing I promised myself before I came here, Ziluan. I am too old for you. There’s no denying that.” Ziluan took in a breath to deny the notion, but Yuyan looked hard at him and continued, “So that means whatever happens in this relationship is my responsibility. I won’t leave you to face things alone. Not ever.”

“Clan leader…” Ziluan murmured, wishing he could hold him again already.

Yuyan suddenly broke the mood by snapping his fingers and pointing woefully at Ziluan. “See, for example, that is now weird.”

“Oh,” Ziluan murmured, blushing. He realized quickly that it was strange to call a lover ‘clan leader.’ But on the other hand, what were the other options? With their difference in age and status, ‘clan leader’ was the only appropriate title Ziluan could use. He wracked his brain for a moment, but could only think of one other form of address he had once used for Jiang Yuyan in the past. 

“Cang-cang?” 

Yuyan closed his eyes tightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache coming on. Zewu Jun seemed suddenly very interested in the passage of a bird high in the trees, strictly controlling his facial expression but unable to conceal a slight twitch of his mouth. Yuyan didn’t seem able to speak for some time. 

“No,” he eventually said, loudly and firmly.

“…Cang-er?”

“You’re now heading further in exactly the wrong direction, meanwhile every moment we delay in telling your father gives him more reasons to string me up and skin me. Come on. We’ll go together.”

Though in fact Ziluan suspected he would have a better chance persuading his father on his own, his heart melted at Yuyan’s words. He had never felt more happy or grateful to be told he wasn’t alone. He smiled with every part of his face, nodded, and together they walked to Lan Sizhui’s study. 

Sizhui would have been the one to permit Yuyan’s entry to the Cloud Recesses, so of course he would already know he was here. Yet when they were permitted to enter his study, Sizhui was silently completing documents, and did not even look up as they entered. His expression was calm, but unreadable.

Yuyan opened his mouth to speak, but Ziluan quickly said, “Clan Leader.” He bowed. “Are we disturbing you?”

Sizhui lifted his gaze and offered a polite smile toward Ziluan. “Nothing I’m not grateful to be distracted from. How can I help?”

Ziluan nodded and took a deep breath. “Clan Leader…I would like permission to return to Yunmeng.”

“…to Yunmeng?” Sizhui repeated without emphasis.

“To Lotus Pier,” Ziluan specified, feeling his cheeks growing warm. 

“Mm,” Sizhui replied softly. He set aside his writing and rose from his desk, walking around it to face Ziluan; a subtle gesture which nonetheless made Ziluan feel like he had instantly become a child again. “It was my understanding that your indoctrination period was more or less complete. An idea Clan Leader Jiang suggested in the first place and yet was reluctant to enact himself. May I ask what sort of shift in the wind this could be?”

“I want Ziluan with me,” Yuyan said without a moment’s hesitation. 

There was a momentary pause, and Sizhui’s eyes gradually moved to rest on Yuyan’s face. Amid the tangible tension in the air, Ziluan noticed Sizhui’s jaw shift slightly in a way that made him shiver. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen his extremely good-natured father angry, but if he could be, then this was it. 

Yet without releasing it openly, Sizhui took in a contemplative breath, glancing skyward in thought. “I see. Ziluan must have outperformed expectations. I have never known you to be particularly sentimental about your myrmidons before, Clan Leader Jiang.”

“Not as a myrmidon,” Yuyan was forced to specify.

While Sizhui didn’t seem particularly surprised to hear this, the air once again grew painfully taught between them, even though he currently wasn’t looking at either Yuyan or Ziluan. “…as a mascot, then?” Sizhui asked, with more poison in his voice than Ziluan had ever heard. 

“No, I…“ Yuyan began, but seemed flustered as to how exactly to respond.

“As a marriage candidate,” Ziluan said softly, unable to conceal a very slight smile of happiness despite the situation. 

Yuyan blushed and looked aside with sigh. But despite his obvious embarrassment and perhaps reluctance about such a clear statement of their intentions, he eventually gave a small nod in agreement.

Some of Sizhui’s anger seemed to have cooled at seeing Ziluan’s face as he said these words. He took them in for some time in silence, even turning to walk a few paces in thought. At length, he turned back and directed a curious glance toward Yuyan.

“Clan Leader Jiang…did you not stab my son, after calling him a cut-sleeve?” Sizhui asked in a deceptively gentle tone.

Yuyan’s eyes widened as if he had only just remembered that himself. Ziluan began to grow worried; his father was rarely this persistent or hostile. Even when he was worried for Ziluan’s life and didn’t want to let him join in the search for Yuyan, Sizhui had been persuaded with a few words from Zewu Jun and Jin Lianyi. Was he truly opposed to Yuyan?

“Not…intentionally…” Yuyan eventually supplied. Ziluan winced slightly.

“You are in the habit of stabbing people by accident?” Sizhui clarified.

Yuyan seemed truly at a loss for a moment, before he frowned and muttered, “Well, not generally…”

“Father,” Ziluan said firmly, knowing he had to show confidence in his decision now. “Clan Leader Jiang fills every space in my heart. His face is the first I wish to see when I wake each morning, and the last before I go to sleep. I dream about a future raising children together with him, as you, Wei-yeye, Hanguang Jun and Zewu Jun did for me. I love him, and wish to spend all the days we have together.”

Yuyan slowly looked down toward Ziluan with mild shock. Ziluan suddenly felt afraid and looked up at him worriedly. “I’m sorry…that’s thinking a little too far ahead, isn’t it? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

But Ziluan was utterly amazed as he saw the incredibly strong and mature Jiang Yuyan’s eyes begin to grow red. Slowly, a single tear ran down his cheek. He shook his head numbly at Ziluan’s question, and then shocked Ziluan even further by gently taking his hand and holding it tightly. Ziluan felt as if he were floating. He felt so happy it was almost frightening. So he squeezed Yuyan’s hand in return.

Sizhui by now had turned away, but he had seen all of this take place. He took in and let out a slow breath. “Half plus seven,” he said abruptly.

The two lovers looked toward him curiously, then at each other. Neither had understood what he meant. “Father…?” Ziluan asked.

“There is no particular precept among the Lan rules which dictates an appropriate age difference in marriage,” Sizhui said calmly. “But the unspoken guide is half one’s age plus seven. At a minimum.”

Yuyan, for whom math had never been a strength, frowned hard as he considered. “Half of thirty-two is…”

“Six years…?” Ziluan completed with despair. “I’ll be twenty-six…”

Yuyan suddenly caught on. “Wait, so I’ll be thirty-eight?! That’s barely younger than my father was! Cangfeng Jun, you’re not serious, right? That’s just a guide, right? I don’t want to be starting my happy married life while knocking on the door of middle age!”

Sizhui shrugged. “If your cultivation is strong, you’ll stay looking and feeling more or less as you are. Six years to a cultivator is the blink of an eye, really, if your conviction is really anything worth mentioning.”

Ziluan surprised the other two by letting out a small chuckle. When Sizhui looked toward him, Ziluan smiled at him and said softly, “Come to think of it, Hanguang Jun spent thirteen years waiting for Wei Wuxian. Which means they were a year further apart than we are.”

Sizhui watched him for a time with a difficult expression before lowering his gaze. He nodded. 

“Hanguang Jun raised you almost entirely on his own, didn’t he, Father?”

Sizhui was momentarily lost in memories, but at length he gave a single, slow nod. “He did. Though to be honest he did not acknowledge the fact until I was nearly nineteen.”

“I was very lucky to be able to call you ‘Father,’ and Wei Wuxian ‘Grandfather,’” Ziluan said so softly his voice barely reached Sizhui. 

Sizhui closed his eyes, turning away. The tension remained in the air until finally he let out a heavy breath. “I expect you back at holidays. The ceremony will be held in Gusu. Your children should also be raised according to Lan principles, and-“

Sizhui stopped as he was hugged firmly around his back by his son, who cried softly against his robes.


End file.
